


A Star is Born

by falliamridley



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: AU - Singers, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Medium Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 62,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28634019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falliamridley/pseuds/falliamridley
Summary: "I'm just frozen, this isn't the path I should have chosen..."Fallon Carrington has it all. Career, boyfriend, clothes, fame, money. Or, that's what she tells the world. That's also what she tells herself. All it takes is meeting one man, a mysterious singer-songwriter, to bring her walls collapsing down around her, to shake her world up, to make her question everything. In return, she'll offer her expertise in music to make him a star.
Relationships: Blake Carrington/Cristal Carrington | Celia Machado, Fallon Carrington/Liam Ridley, Fallon Carrington/Michael Culhane, Kirby Anders/Adam Carrington, Sam "Sammy Jo" Jones/ Scorpio
Comments: 101
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Just a quick note before you begin that although this fic is called A Star is Born, it is only loosely based on the film and takes the concept of it more than following the exact storyline. This fic does include songs of which I have personally written to fit with the storyline itself. 
> 
> And, I hope you enjoy!

_“Everyone has heard of Fallon Carrington, and if you haven’t heard her name, then you have at least heard her incessantly catchy pop music playing on the radio. Her rise to fame was quick, but not unexpected, considering her already privileged background. As the daughter of Blake Carrington, her life was expected to follow in his footsteps. However, at the age of 21, she left the family home when her brother, Adam, was made COO of Carrington Atlantic, and she was shunned from the family company forcing her to take her own path. Her “talent” was spotted by music producer, Michael Culhane, famous for producing the platinum hit ‘Search Me’ for the Colby Twins. It is probably the only decent hit he has ever made. Fallon is prolific for being a diva and getting what she wants, which is perhaps why she started to date Culhane in 2016 to ensure she could continue to infect our ears with auto-tuned factory produced garbage. Playing tonight at the Greenacre Arena in Atlanta, I will endure what I can only imagine being 2 and a half hours of torture being surrounded by screaming teenage girls, but I remain optimistic as ever. She will likely lip sync... If I’m lucky. Review to follow in the morning._

“Well, that’s just rude.” Fallon throws her phone onto the overcrowded vanity in front of her, using every restraint she has to resist reading the comments on the offensive blog post. Whilst she had the resilience to no longer take critics words to heart, there is still a bitter aftertaste of resentment lingering on her tongue. She has no doubt in her mind where her blueprint for her poor reaction to criticism comes from; spending most of her life striving to gain the approval of her bull-headed father – and failing to acquire it - had made her both strong but cripplingly anxious at the same time.

But, if there was one thing Blake Carrington has passed onto his only daughter which was actually useful to her life, it’s that she can compartmentalise her feelings, pushing them away and forgetting about them. A therapist would tell her that it isn’t healthy behaviour, but she really does not care less, because the alternative would be to _feel_ and that quite frankly is not an option when the whole world is watching her every move.

She looks up at her reflection in the illuminated mirror of the dressing room and takes in a deep breath to calm her pre-concert jitters. Despite already spending four solid, hard-working years in the music industry, butterflies still attack her stomach every time – that fear of judgement creeping in. To make matters worse, she _knows_ this critic is sitting in the arena with his preconceptions about her and her ‘factory-produced garbage’.

She touches up her red lipstick, mainly to give her hands something to do, and definitely to ensure she can’t provide the fashion critics with the opportunity to drag her down for her appearance too.

“Fallon, seriously, you’re on in 5 minutes,” her assistant rolls his eyes, tapping at the headset pressed against his ears and holding up the clipboard in his hands for added emphasis, “you shouldn’t be reading negative comments before going on stage, we’ve talked about this. It will mess with your energy.”

The singer raises an eyebrow, both in question and amusement.

“My energy?” She smirks at her own reflection in the mirror, double-checking for any imperfections, using her fingers to add volume to her curled hair, “au contraire Sam, it only fuels me to prove them wrong.”

And that’s how she does it.

She convinces everyone else that she isn’t fazed, that the fire in her soul burns out any criticism that comes her way, that she’s powerful, unaffected, strong. After a while, she even manages to convince herself of that fact.

“Whatever works to get you fired up to give a show-stopping performance I suppose,” Sam replies, checking his watch, “four minutes left. We need to go.”

Fallon takes an involuntary sharp breath in – and on the exhale she disguises it as a sigh. She grabs her phone from the haphazard position she’d thrown it in and stands. 

The screen lights up, the picture and name familiar. Her chest instantly feels tight at the sight of it, the last thing she needs right now is her most prominent critic of all, her producer, putting doubt into her mind about her ability.

Perhaps Sam was actually onto something when he was talking about negative energy.

“Don’t answer that until I’m on stage,” she throws Sam’s way, passing the cell to him.

Sam nods once in submission.

As the pair make their way through the narrow hallways towards the stage, Fallon tunes her hearing into the sound of the crowd, which is growing increasingly louder. She tries to use the thousands of people chanting her name, idolising her, providing validation as a way to drown out the insecurities swimming around in her head, triggered by one irrelevant blog post.

She speaks to herself, repeating a mantra, a reminder that she was the one in charge of her destiny and that she is in control. It silences the demons running around in her head, temporarily.

_I wasn’t shunned from CA._

_I chose to leave._

_I’m engaged to Culhane because I love him, not so that I can keep my career._

_I hardly even use any auto-tune. No more so than every other pop star out there._

If she says it to herself enough times, even she starts to believe it.

Once she reaches her destination, her crew bombards her, fitting her mic and earpieces, throwing her instructions to last-minute changes to her arrangement. It’s a welcomed distraction, flicking a switch in her mind, keeping the emotions at arm’s length so that she can put on her metaphorical battle armour. 

They count her down, the crowd erupting in response to hearing the intro music, recognising the song instantly.

She forces a smile and steps out into the spotlight.

~

#  **[Atlanta GA, September 20 th – Fallon Carrington live at the Greenacre Arena – Encore. Closing Song – Leave It At That]**

_Why are you trying to question me right now?_

_Ain’t no way you’ve got the moral high ground,_

_Don’t appreciate a man if he can’t handle some fire,_

_Trying to accuse me of being dishonest, but you’re the liar_

_Yes, it’s true that we all know,_

_Darling ‘round here you’re the liar,_

_Ooh Ooh, I can’t think of any reason for you to know,_

_Ahh Ahh, anything that I’m thinking,_

_Let’s just leave it at that, yeah let’s just leave it at that._

_Ooh Ooh, I can’t think of any reason for you to know,_

_Ahh Ahh, anything that I’m thinking,_

_Let’s just leave it at that, yeah let’s just leave it at that._

_Now you’re going spreading rumours around,_

_Hear everyone whispering them in the town,_

_It’s a shame you have no idea what I’m capable of,_

_Revenge is sweet and it’s only made sweeter when you’ve fallen out of love_

_Yes, it’s true that we all know,_

_Darling ‘round here you’re the liar,_

_Ooh Ooh, I can’t think of any reason for you to know,_

_Ahh Ahh, anything that I’m thinking,_

_Let’s just leave it at that, yeah let’s just leave it at that._

_Ooh Ooh, I can’t think of any reason for you to know,_

_Ahh Ahh, anything that I’m thinking,_

_Let’s just leave it at that, yeah let’s just leave it at that._

_You should have expected this all along when you began to realise_

_I’m not an angel in disguise_

_I’m not an angel in disguise_

_Ooh Ooh, I can’t think of any reason for you to know,_

_Ahh Ahh, anything that I’m thinking,_

_Let’s just leave it at that, yeah let’s just leave it at that._

_Ooh Ooh, I can’t think of any reason for you to know,_

_Ahh Ahh, anything that I’m thinking,_

_Let’s just leave it at that, yeah let’s just leave it at that._

“Atlanta, my home town, you have been amazing tonight. Thank you so much!”

The crew immediately swarm around her the second she’s backstage to de-mic her, handing her a towel so that she can cool down, holding water for her to drink. It allows her a moment to catch her breath before she has to face the comedown of adrenaline.

Sam approaches once Fallon is released by that particular team, intent on walking her back down the corridor into the dressing room; ensuring she is always in a specific place in any given time which works with everyone else’s schedules.

It’s a stark reminder that the majority of her life is determined by other people.

Fallon takes notice of the forlorn expression on Sam’s face as he wordlessly passes her phone over.

She’s still out of breath, her heart still pounding heavily in her chest, but she takes it anyway and holds it out in front of her, the face of her producer-stroke-fiancé looking back at her.

“Baby you were amazing tonight,” the voice through the phone’s speakers enounce enthusiastically. 

Sam looks away, listens to some instructions through his earpiece, attempting to give the couple some modicum of privacy.

“You’re sure you could tell over Facetime?” Fallon responds, feeling pressure on her elbow as she is led back towards her dressing room.

“Yeah, I mean I caught most of it,” Culhane responds.

She can’t help but roll her eyes at that – she is still bitter about him refusing to go with her on the last leg of her tour, choosing instead to work on an album for the Colby’s in LA. To make it worse, she can already hear the disapproval in his voice, she knows what’s coming from him.

“So, what? Come on, spit it out,” she insists as she rounds a corner. 

“Baby, come on. What did I tell you about the arrangement for that last song?”

The criticism stings.

The high Fallon’s riding from the rush of adrenaline is extinguished, Culhane metaphorically pulling a rug from under her.

“I wasn’t flat,” She insists, turning her attention to her assistant, “Sam, was I flat?”

Sam shakes his head, “no, not at all.”

“See?” Fallon smiles triumphantly into the front camera.

She hears Culhane sigh through the small speakers, “look I know I’m your fiancé, but I am also your producer, so it is my job to tell you when something isn’t working.”

Her blood pressure rises instantly, and it’s like these dark and narrow corridors can’t provide enough air for her to breathe, choking her. Unfortunately, it’s a feeling that she’s familiar with. It’s rejection, criticism, hurt.

She pushes it away.

“Michael, can we seriously not do this right now?” She begs.

She watches on the screen as he subtly shakes his head with pursed lips, “sure, we have a meeting on Monday anyway.”

It isn't necessarily the answer she is looking for, but she supposes it's enough to get him off her back.

“Fine, I’ll call you later.”

She hits the end call button before giving him the chance to respond, feeling instant relief when their communication ends.

The second she re-enters the dressing room she slams the door shut on Sam’s face, needing a moment alone.

“Fuck you!” She screams at the phone in her hand, cursing at the blank screen just to let out her emotions.

The show was _good_ , she made sure it was, pushing herself hard just to prove the critic she knew was sitting in the front row wrong.

Her throat is already hurting from stretching her vocal cords, sore from making sure he could _hear_ that she doesn’t need any autotune to sound good. Her songs may be generic and ‘radio-friendly’, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have real talent.

And yet, she was just slated by her own fiance, regardless.

She needs a drink.

“Sam!”

The door swings open.

“There isn’t any liquor Fallon, and no, I’m not going to get you any,” he says with confidence.

“Fine,” she shrugs, “then we’re going out.”

“Actually, I have plans. I’m going to see my Aunt whilst we’re actually in town.”

She rolls her eyes, sighing, “you have to be kidding me?”

“No, and you should come too. You should see your family,” Sam insists.

_Oh, god, no._

The thought alone causes bile to rise in her stomach, triggering her fight or flight response.

“That’s going to have to be a hard pass,” Fallon responds resolutely.

“Fine, I’ll tell security to escort you,” Sam responds, throwing her a fake smile, “don’t get too drunk. See you in the morning!”

The door slams shut.

Fallon can’t help the smirk forming on her face. Despite Sam being a royal pain the ass and being pretty much the worst assistant ever by constantly defying her, he was, granted, also the best assistant she’s ever had for keeping her on the straight and narrow. She could count on her hand the number of people in her life who had the guts to stand up to her, so she couldn’t help but have respect for the man.

That being said, his suggestion to visit her family’s manor sounded worse than a trip to hell. Fallon can only imagine having to endure hearing her brother brag about his latest deal for CA and how proud their father is of him. Then, of course, there is _perfect_ Cristal, Sam’s Aunt, with her passive-aggressive remarks, and worst of all, being under the scrutiny of her Father’s unapproving glare.

She shudders at the thought… A solo trip to a bar it is.

~

Fallon dresses modestly, putting on a pair of leather pants and a black top, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention to herself. She throws on a maroon velvet jacket which matches her heels and heads towards her limo, waiting at the back of the arena.

Fallon isn’t sure what overcomes her when she gives her driver instructions to go to the Old Courthouse Piano Lounge. It’s an out-of-date hipster bar usually filled with local singer-songwriters playing sets to an unforgiving crowd. She knows that to be the case, because once upon a time, she had been one of those artists. Well, her and her brother.

As the memories of those days resurface, she feels a lump forming in her throat.

It’s impossible to pinpoint the emotions thinking about her brother, Steven, stirs inside of her. Usually, she just feels an unrelenting tidal wave of hurt which pushes her to the brink and then as it is pulls away, leaves her feeling empty inside.

The relationship she has with the eldest of the Carrington children was much different from the middle child, Steven. Blake always joked that Fallon is merely the female version of Adam, they’re both determined, confident and almost replicas of the man himself.

Steven, however, was _so_ different. There was a kindness to him that no other Carrington possessed and he had an addictive personality. People would naturally gravitate towards him. He had the ability to bring out the best in others, which was definitely the case for her. Steven was the only person in the world who could see past her walls, who knew that buried deep down was a broken girl, desperately trying to please her parents, wanting to just be loved. To be _enough._

But Steven had demons of his own, and he threw himself into booze and drugs, which was destructive for _him,_ but really fun for everyone else who was in his social circle.

As they travel through her home-city, she stares out of the darkened windows, recalling all of the nights her and Steven would sneak out of the Carrington Manor to the Courthouse Lounge on open mic nights, armed with their fake ID’s. They’d get drunk on cheap wine, he’d play the piano, and she’d sing her favorite songs for the audience.

They were a duo, and she thought she would spend the rest of her life with him by her side.

But he wasn’t.

He left her.

Her eyes close briefly, feeling the memories piercing her skull like a knife, and she almost changes her mind, regretting her choice of destination. Then her eyes open, and she sees the familiar glow of neon lights outside the black brick building, and as the car pulls outside the entrance, there’s an indescribable force drawing her in that she cannot defy.

Almost against her will, she opens the door and steps out onto the pavement, a small, melancholic smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she makes her way inside.

Besides, a huge bonus about the bar is that it is pretty off the grid, so without any paparazzi waiting outside it’s easy for her to go in unnoticed. Of course, her two bodyguards still follow her into the crowded bar, but stand subtly to the side, allowing her to find a darkly lit seat at the bar so that she can order a drink.

She doesn’t recognise the young bartender when he approaches and takes her order, but granted, it has been about seven years since she last stepped a foot into this place.

Looking around, she notices the new furniture and updated lounge. With all respects, she thinks it seems almost unrecognisable, with one exception; a neon sign above the stage twisted into the words ‘ _You Are Exactly Where You Need To Be’_. Fallon turns in her seat to see it thoroughly, and it almost feels like she’s looking through the lens of her 18 year old self again. A young girl, without any clue as to what tragedy was about to happen in her life, full of optimism, full of _hope._

“So, are you enjoying the show?” The bartender asks, breaking her out of her nostalgic thoughts, and places a martini down. With the way that he’s looking at her she can tell that he recognises her – but is trying to play it cool.

“Oh, I only just got here,” she returns, handing over her credit card.

“Shame,” he replies, pointing to the stage clearly set up for a gig - but missing the artist. “He’s really good. Plays here every month. He only has one song left, it’s his encore.”

That explains the strange vibe of the place then, she thinks. The crowd are hovering, the music low, the lights brighter than they should be. Almost like they were waiting for something to happen.

She smiles back politely but doesn’t bother to continue the conversation, preferring to stir her drink to dull her racing thoughts. After all, she is here for the alcohol, not to listen to a semi-decent signer who doesn’t even have a record deal.

Moments later, the lights dim, and the small crowd on the dancefloor erupt into applause.

Fallon remains with her back turned to the stage, staring down at her drink.

“Thank you,” a husky voice speaks through the mic once the crowd dies down a little. Fallon hears a stroke of guitar strings. “I hope you’ve had a good evening, this will be my last song of the night. I wrote it a few months ago when my fiancé and I broke up.”

She hears a few ‘awws’ come from the crowd, causing her to roll her eyes, figuring she has _much_ worse problems right now. Like being alone, in her home city, whilst almost everyone she knows is judging her from the Carrington manor right now for not having the guts to turn up and face her family after being away on tour for months.

The man at the mic huffs a laugh, “nah, it’s not sad, really. In fact, it was probably the best thing for us. I’ll uh, I’ll let the song tell you all about it. This is ‘Glad You’re Gone’.”

A pretty melody starts on the piano whilst he continues to play the guitar.

#  **[Atlanta GA, September 20 th – Live at the The Old Courthouse Piano Lounge – Encore. Closing Song – Glad You’re Gone]**

_Listen closely my dear,_

_I can’t forget this year,_

_You’ve used me, abused me and left me all alone here,_

It’s her blood running cold which she notices first, then tingles down her arm, leaving bumps in its wake.

That _voice._

It’s rich and soulful, reminding her of a well-bodied bottle of vintage merlot on a summer night, and unlike anything she’s ever heard before.

She’s compelled, instantly.

Once she turns her head to finally get a look at the young man singing on stage she’s taken back, her eyes widening to take in his handsome features, his ash brown hair and light eyes complimented by a brown leather jacket which accentuates his broad shoulders.

It’s like he draws the room into him, captivating the audience with his charm, and when she realises she is unable to look away, she knows she’s under his spell too.

_Listen closely,_

_Listen closely,_

_You’ve made it all too clear,_

_There’s only one thing I fear,_

_How will you be able to handle the tears?_

_So walk away from our life,_

_Can’t look me in the eyes,_

_Illusion of paradise,_

_We’re paying the wrong price,_

_I wish we never tried,_

_It’s hurt both of our prides,_

_Now I’ve lost a friend,_

_It’s a tragic way to end,_

_But I couldn’t keep up the lie,_

_It was killing us inside,_

_We’re free from this hell,_

_I’ll always wish you well,_

_I wish this wasn’t true,_

_But I know you feel it too,_

_I’m glad you’re gone,_

_I’m glad you’re gone,_

_What scares me the most,_

_Is that we came so close,_

_A beautiful life wrapped up in a lie so,_

_Listen closely,_

_Listen closely,_

_How are we going to explain this?_

_When we can’t even figure out what’s a-miss?_

_It would be easier if you fell in love with someone else,_

_So walk away from our life,_

_Can’t look me in the eyes,_

_Illusion of paradise,_

_We’re paying the wrong price,_

_I wish we never tried,_

_It’s hurt both of our prides,_

_Now I’ve lost a friend,_

_It’s a tragic way to end,_

_But I couldn’t keep up the lie,_

_It was killing us inside,_

_We’re free from this hell,_

_I’ll always wish you well,_

_I wish this wasn’t true,_

_But I know you feel it too,_

_I’m glad you’re gone,_

_I’m glad you’re gone,_

_It’s okay,_

_I’d rather not fake it,_

_This just can’t be what we want it to be._

_Listen to me this one time, listen to me._

_I couldn’t keep up the lie,_

_It was killing us inside,_

_We’re free from this hell,_

_I’ll always wish you well,_

_I wish this wasn’t true,_

_But I know you feel it too,_

_I’m glad you’re gone,_

_I’m glad you’re gone._

The singer smiles, his whole face lighting up in what she can tell is genuine, heartfelt earnest as the entire club applauds him.

“Thank you,” he says as he places his guitar down by his side, and leans back into the mic, “uh, I hope you have a great night. I’m Liam Ridley, and I _am_ on Spotify… If you were interested.”

Fallon involuntary huffs out a laugh, realising the guy is also charismatic. Her eyes follow him as he picks up his guitar and walks off stage, going through a door she knows leads to the rooms in the back.

She feels compelled to follow him.

“Hey,” she shouts over to the bartender to get his attention and once he’s close enough to hear her, continues, “so, I used to play here all the time with my brother.”

The bartender looks surprised, “really?”

“Yeah, I know the owner, Jim. We go way back, do you mind if I go and say hi?” She asks, leaning forward so he can hear her over the sound of everyone suddenly rushing towards the bar to order drinks.

“Sure, do you know where his office is?” the bartender responds.

Fallon nods and points to the door beside the stage, “through there, third door on the right.”

“That’s the one,” he confirms, “yeah no problem, I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

“Thanks,” she calls, then mouths ‘one minute’ to her bodyguards before hopping down from her stool and making her way through the stage door, entering the familiar hallway.

The second the heavy door closes behind her, she’s attacked by memories.

She sees her and Steven in her mind’s eye like ghosts, still lingering down this corridor, waiting for their cue to go on stage. Glammed up, looking much older than they were, confidence etched into every bone of their bodies. Steven would always shoot her a grin, a silent conversation between the two that they had one another’s backs, no matter what.

The owner always knew that Fallon was underage when they would play here, but considering they never caused any trouble, he would simply turn a blind eye. Jim would often order them pizza from Joe’s across the street, and he’d been the one to convince them that they had a shot in the music industry, giving them all of the connections he had.

She’s curious to see him again, especially considering she hasn’t attempted to speak to him in years.

Her hand is poised to knock on his office door until she catches a glimpse of the dressing room in her peripheral vision.

She hesitates as she feels compelled to walk over, admitting to herself that the real reason she had wanted to come back here wasn’t to see Jim, it was to talk to that singer.

 _Liam,_ was it?

So instead, she hesitantly knocks on the dressing room door.

Inside, she hears a “one second” before the door opens.

“Whoa,” they say, simultaneously.

She could tell he was handsome from the stage, but up close, she can now see his features clearly. His eyes draw her in immediately, taking note of how strikingly blue they are as they bore into hers, almost like he can see into her soul. Then her eyes involuntarily travel down his topless form, and her breath catches in her throat as she takes in his defined muscles.

_Oh my god, he’s hot._

It isn’t until she has to swallow from her mouth practically watering at the sight of him that she realises that she should _really_ stop staring quite so obviously.

Her eyes snap back up.

“Hi,” she smiles, suddenly uncharacteristically shy.

“Hi,” he breathes back, clearly a little starstruck as he stares at her with disbelief written across his features.

“I’m guessing from that reaction that you know who I am?” She asks.

“Uh…” Liam shakes his head, blinking rapidly, “yeah of course,” he looks flustered for a moment before he recomposes himself, “it’s Fallon, right? I’m Liam,” he extends his hand to shake hers, “it’s nice to meet you.”

Fallon puts her hand in his and is surprised to feel an instant pulse of warm energy as their skin makes contact, like electricity sizzling between them. Their eyes meet immediately, both wondering if the other had felt it too.

“Would you like to come in?” Liam asks.

“Sure, yeah, thanks,” Fallon responds as she lets her hand drop to her side, feeling a sense of loss.

The young singer moves to the side, keeping the door open for her. She steps in, glancing around, taking in the unchanged décor. It’s _exactly_ the same as it used to be, in fact, the slight yellowing of the walls and flaking of the paint is the only indication that seven years have passed.

Liam lets the door swing closed behind them, and in the moment of slightly awkward silence, she becomes hyper-aware that they’re now completely alone.

“So,” Liam is the first to break the silence, “what exactly is it that brings you, Fallon Carrington…” He darts his eyes around, silently inviting Fallon to take in the shabby the room, “ _Here?_ I mean, Jim always talks about how you used to play here all the time but honestly he’s kind of old now, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not I believed him. _”_

She lets out a chuckle in response, “it’s true, actually. Yeah, I used to play here with my brother. It feels like forever ago, but I guess I was feeling nostalgic, so I decided to pay him a visit, and I was pleasantly surprised,” she admits, looking him dead in the eyes, “by you.”

That catches his attention.

His eyebrows raise, encouraging her to continue.

“Being here is a little painful in terms of the memories it holds, but, I’m glad I came. I wasn’t here for your whole set, but I heard your last song, and I just wanted to come back here so that I could tell you that I thought you were pretty good.”

His eyes widen, clearly taken back by the compliment, “wow, well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she returns, taking in his smile, noticing an adorable dimple on his cheek. A feeling of sadness begins creeping up on her, like that was the end of the conversation and she isn’t entirely sure what to say now. All she knows is that she has to think of something, she can’t just walk out of here and never see this alluring man again, “and I also wanted to ask if you would like to have a drink with me?”

Fallon knows it’s forward, but, she also knows that sometimes in life, being forward is often the only way to ever get what you truly want.

“Yeah,” he replies, a smirk beginning to play at his lips, “maybe uh, let me put a shirt on, though?” He laughs, pointing to his topless form, “and then I’ll be right out?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, I mean I know the dress code in this place is pretty slack but I think clothes are part of the requirements,” she jokes.

“Well, I could go out now and see what they say…” He suggests, his tone obviously flirtatious.

Him going out there topless after she has just walked into the room? It’s pretty clear to her what people would think.

“Oh, I think they’ll just assume we were doing something,” she searches for the right word, “ _deviant_ , in here.” 

She realises instantly that she shouldn’t have said that when the chemistry between them doubles in strength.

Their attraction to each other is obvious, and there’s no doubt in her mind that both of them are now imagining the two of them doing just _that._ One look into Liam’s eyes, his pupils dilated, confirms it, and she chews on her bottom lip, breathing in the heavy air between them.

She has to look away to break this spell he has her under.

“I will be at the bar,” she announces, motioning with her head towards the door.

Liam nods, “okay.”

“Okay? See you in…” She feels awkward putting a particular time to it, she isn’t trying to put him on a schedule or anything, “in a… _while._ ”

She heads for the door, looking back as he replies, “sure, only a short while.”

“Good, okay. In a short while,” Fallon returns, smiling.

The second she is on the other side of the door, taking in the sound from the bar in the distance, her brain tries, and fails to catch up with what the hell just happened.

~

Liam was right, he didn’t leave her waiting long, it was five, maybe ten minutes at the most by the time he re-emerges from the stage door.

Her head turns instantly, feeling her breath leave her at the sight of him. He’s wearing a dark shirt and that brown leather jacket again, and when he spots her and smiles, she knows her anticipation must have been written all over her face.

He takes the stool next to her, and as he sits, the smell of his masculine cologne fills her senses. She doesn’t recognise the brand, but it’s a satisfying mixture of leather, bergamot and citrus, and she decides that it suits the enigma of man sitting beside her perfectly.

“Hey,” he says warmly once he’s sat down, and suddenly she wishes she’d picked a booth because at least there would be a table between them, rather than his thigh being only centimetres away from hers.

“Hey,” she returns with a smile, “I didn’t know what to order you, so I figured I’d just wait,” she responds, motioning with her hand towards the bar.

“Oh,” Liam smiles, “well, I’m a pretty simple guy,” he says as he gets the attention of the bartender. “Just a scotch for me and-” he pauses, looking back at Fallon to allow her to order her own drink.

It’s a simple thing, but honestly, she was kind of used to the man in her life ordering her drink for her, assuming he knows exactly what she wants. She’s never bothered to correct him, fearing she would hurt his feelings if she told him that usually all she wants, is a good whisky.

“Same, please,” she says to the bartender, willing her cheeks not to tinge pink as she swoons slightly at Liam’s chivalry.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, admiration on his expression and she throws back a challenging smirk.

“Alright, I like it,” he says, nodding.

Fallon knows she doesn’t need his approval at all, but she really couldn’t help that feeling of elation the moment he gives it.

“So, didn’t you have a gig tonight?” He asks her.

“Yeah, I did,” she responds, trying her best to forget it.

“And now you’re here, alone?” He asks, and she figures he’s still trying to understand what would compel her to come to this out-of-date bar, by herself, and there’s something sweet about it. Like he doesn’t _want_ her to be alone.

“Yes, _thank you_ for pointing that out.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I just mean, I’m surprised that you’d be here without a huge clan of friends is all.”

A huge clan of friends is something that she does not have. Culhane is the sociable one in their relationship, and as a result, most of his friends were just her friends through association. But she figures that’s not something she needs to tell a complete stranger.

Fallon waves her hand, dismissively, “oh, they all had plans.”

They break eye contact for a moment as the bartender places their drinks on the bar in front of them, then pats Liam on the shoulder, telling him it’s on the house for such a great set that night. Liam thanks him, his smile genuine and Fallon simply cannot stop staring at it.

“Anyway,” he takes his drink into his hand and holds it up. Fallon takes her own, mirroring him, “I’m glad they all had plans.”

Her stomach flips.

She has no idea why.

“Yeah,” she says softly, “me too.”

They meet in the middle, clinking the glasses together before both of them take a large mouthful of the amber liquid. It burns her throat, warms her stomach, and keeps her lightheaded enough to keep her inhibitions intact, but drives away the anxieties; just the way she wants it to be.

“So, I have a question… Is that _actually_ you in that photograph?” Liam points towards the back of the bar where there’s an array of Polaroid photographs pinned to a corkboard, she follows his finger, scanning the photos and sees it. Sees _him._

Her heart lurches.

“Uh, yeah, that looks like me,” she returns, and grabs the attention of the bartender again, “excuse me, could I see that photo, please?”

“Sure,” he replies, pointing at the photo in question, “this one?”

She nods her head and says thank you once he unpins it from the board and passes it over to her, pressing the plastic into her palm.

There’s a part of her which is scared to look down. From the bar's distance, she was able to make out the silhouettes of herself and Steven, him at the piano, her at the mic. But looking at it closely, she just _knows_ it’s going to stir up feelings she has long pushed back and in front of this stranger, who for some unknown reason she is attempting to impress… _what is she thinking_?

But Fallon can’t help herself.

She has to see it.

Her eyes glance down to take in the details. She estimates that she must have been about 18 at the time, judging from her choice of clothes and hair. The photo was taken on the front row of her singing, clutching at the mic stand, whereas her brother is off the right-hand side. Steven’s sat at the piano as always, smiling at her, his hands poised over the keys.

Absentmindedly, her thumb traces over the spot where he is frozen in time.

Her heart aches for the young siblings in this photo.

It isn’t until she feels a strong, comforting hand on her shoulder that she realises a tear has escaped, rolling down her cheek freely. Her hand immediately goes up to catch it in its tracks.

“Yeah,” she says softly, “that is definitely me in the photo. I’m guessing Jim took it, must have been about seven years ago.” _Possibly one of the last times she was ever on stage with her brother,_ she thinks. “He was like a second father to us.”

“Do you miss coming here?” Liam asks, his thumb absentmindedly rubs against her velvet jacket as if to soothe her. Strangely, it’s working.

“Yeah,” she admits, looking him in the eyes, “a lot. But, after Steven died, I just couldn’t stand to be here anymore.”

Images of his unconscious body in his bed flashes in her mind. The smell of alcohol and vomit still clings to her senses, even now. She still wakes up in a panic, her brain making her repeat the memory over and over again. It forces her to recall that feeling of raw fear when she discovered his pale form, the white powder still on his nightstand, his unseeing eyes staring up at the ceiling, her panicked cries, knowing it was useless. Knowing it was too late. Knowing he was gone from this world, from his corporeal form, and from her.

Her grip on the photo tightens.

“I’m sorry,” Liam begins, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

It doesn’t matter that this man is a stranger, she can just _tell_ he means what he says.

She’s blown away with how vulnerable and open she has been with him – Fallon realises that in the space of ten minutes she has opened up to him more than she has with pretty much everyone in her life.

“You didn’t,” She promises, “I mean, I’m the one who chose to come here knowing what this place means to me. I guess it’s kind of cathartic.”

Liam smiles sympathetically, “that’s a good way of looking at it.”

“Can I keep this?” She asks, holding up the photo to the bartender who nods back, curtly.

“Just don’t let Jim know I gave it to you.”

“Of course. Thank you,” Fallon says as she slips the photo into her jacket pocket, and with it gone, she manages to push the emotions away too.

After all, she is here to learn more about this mysterious, heartbroken singer with kind eyes and an expressive singing voice.

It hits her that although it is a unique voice, there is still something familiar about it.

“You know what?” Fallon turns to him, her mask now safely back on. His hand slips off of her shoulder, and it feels cold without it there.

“What?” He asks.

“Your voice, it reminds me of,” she thinks for a moment, and then it comes to her, like a light flicking on in her mind, “okay, do you know that song ‘Butterfly Daydreams’?”

Liam blushes slightly.

“Yeah, there’s probably a reason for that,” He says, “that’s my dad’s song.”

She gasps in surprise, her eyes widening, “no way, you’re John Lowden’s son?”

Now that he’s mentioned it, Fallon begins to see the resemblance in his features, “my dad owns like every single one of his records, he used to play them for us every Sunday when I was growing up. John’s a legend in my family.”

Liam nods, before taking a sharp breath, “yeah he _was_ a legend. Which is probably one of the reasons that _I_ am not.”

Fallon tilts her head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“I have lived every single second of my life in his shadow, even now that he’s gone I know I’ll never be better than the memory of him and the legacy he left behind. That’s why I figured that if I ever want to be taken seriously in the industry, then I need for people to not know that I’m Jack Lowden.”

She nods in understanding, and Fallon can’t help but feel like this stranger she has only just met is somewhat of a kindred spirit.

“No offense, but why did you go with ‘Liam Ridley’?” She points towards the posters scattered around the club which had been put up to promote his set, “it just kind of screams ‘romantic novelist’ to me, not singer songwriter.”

Liam chuckles, and _damn_ , Fallon has to catch her breath at the sound. She decides that she definitely needs to hear him laugh like that again.

“My whole name is actually Jack Liam Ridley Lowden, but if you have any ideas for better stage names, I am open to suggestions.”

Fallon has to look away for a second as she suddenly feels hot under his gaze. She hums before looking back with a look as serious as she can muster.

“How about ‘Lesser-Known Lowden?'” She says, deadpan.

Liam laughs again, and Fallon’s stomach does a little flip, mentally cheering.

Fallon can’t keep her poker face for long, letting a smile crack.

The singer shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink, “funny,” he responds with sarcasm, making Fallon chuckle.

“In all seriousness,” Fallon begins, feeling the need to share her thoughts on the matter. Which, she realises is a little crazy considering she has only just met this guy, but nevertheless, the words spill out of her mouth anyway, “I don’t think that pretending you’re a whole other person will help. Trust me.”

“I take it as you have personal experience in the matter?” Liam asks.

“Maybe.”

Fallon becomes hesitant, realising that she is about to share a deep and personal secret that she has never shared. Still, she figures that maybe her ability to speak to this man so freely is _because_ he’s simply a stranger, someone who isn’t going to hold anything against her for the rest of her life. This is someone she may never see again after tonight, so what would be the harm?

“I don’t know... It’s just that earlier, when I heard you sing, I could tell that you believed every single word of it. I have never felt that, with every album or song I put out I always hope that I will connect with the words and have that feeling where what I sing about actually feels like a reflection of myself but it just doesn’t. So instead I chase the next big thing, trying to find something that will make me _feel_ something, but as of yet I just feel powerless.”

“Powerless?” Liam sounds surprised at Fallon’s confession, “aren’t you setting up a whole record company with your producer-stroke-fiancé?”

Fallon nods slowly, wishing that something as huge as buying and owning her own record label would excite her, or make her feel anything other than hollow.

“Yeah, it’s in the works. Business is kind of in my blood, so…” Liam furrows his brows, and Fallon waves her hand to dismiss the confusion, “you’re not the only one with a powerful Father. Mine inherited one of the most profitable companies in the world from his dad. _I_ was supposed to join the family business, but like Steven, I rebelled. Adam, my eldest brother was always the golden child so he stands to inherit it all. So, this record label idea is essentially my way of symbolically flipping my whole family off.”

“Wow,” he responds. 

Fallon struggles to comprehend his expression, is he shocked? In awe? Judgmental? She suddenly hates that she isn’t sure what he thinks of her.

“So you’re basically going to start your own dynasty?” Liam asks.

“That’s the plan,” she says before taking a sip of her drink.

“Well, if you want to sign an up-and-coming musician called The Lesser-Known Lowden, I think he’s looking for a label.”

Laughter bubbles up in Fallon’s chest, glancing at his cheeky smile. 

Fallon realises that she hasn’t felt this light in a long time, and honestly it scares her how naturally she feels she can be herself around this stranger.

“I think the name might need a bit of work, but I’m sure we can listen to a few demos.”

She sees a glint of humor in Liam’s eyes as he smiles, “yeah, it was some random girl who I met in a bar once who suggested it. She was very insightful about my career path, not so good at naming things.”

“Well, I hope you at least got her number.”

Liam’s smile falls flat as his eyes travel to her left hand, raising his eyebrow at the large diamond ring on her finger.

“I don’t think her fiancé would appreciate that,” he comments, disappointment laced in the tone of his voice.

Fallon brings her hands together, feeling at the ring, and is instantly hit by a wave of nauseating guilt at Liam’s words.

_What am I doing? Flirting with this guy when Michael is probably home right now waiting for you to call him to say goodnight?_

She knows that logically, this would have been an ideal moment to leave, but she can’t resist this compulsion she feels towards the handsome man sat next to her. Once she figures that there is absolutely no harm in them being friends, she relaxes.

“True,” she admits, “but they could work together, you know as colleagues? Have a session in the studio or something,” she shrugs, attempting to give off an illusion of nonchalance.

Liam does a comprehending nod of his head, “sure,” he says, “but, he doesn’t initially write music in a studio.”

“Oh?” Fallon questions, taking another sip of her drink, “is he more of a piano and notepad kind of guy?”

“Not quite. Want me to show you?”

Her heart skips a beat.

“Sure.”

“Then we need to escape _them,_ ” he gestures with his head towards both of Fallon’s bodyguards standing in the corner of the room. Fallon looks around at them, seeing that they aren’t paying too much attention to her and figures she can get out without them noticing if she is quick about it.

She begins to stand, but Liam puts his hand on her arm, halting her.

“You can’t just walk out of here.” 

Fallon sits back down, mentally admitting that he is right. She bites her lip as she thinks about a better escape plan, “I’ll just tell them to go home.”

Liam rolls his eyes, playfully, “like that’s going to work.”

“They _work_ for me,” she emphasises.

“They will follow you, regardless, because if something ever happens to you, your family would sue the hell out of them for failing in their contractual duties to keep you safe,” Liam adds, his voice low and raspy as he moves closer.

Fallon looks at him, properly, looks at him.

“Are you telling me I’m not going to be safe with you?” She asks.

Liam mirrors her expression for a second until the side of his mouth curls up, “of course you’re going to be safe with me,” he says with confidence, “I have two helmets.”

She recoils, “excuse me?”

“You want to feel something, Fallon Carrington?” He asks, a glint in his eyes as he continues, “if you trust me, you’ll feel something tonight, I can promise you that.”

She has got to be crazy to even consider this. 

But, he’s offering her something she has been craving ever since she last played in this bar with her brother by her side.

The promise of excitement, maybe even a little danger is far too alluring, so she gives in to temptation, “alright, so what’s your plan?”

She catches his look of excitement before he holds out his palm, “give me your jacket.”

Fallon looks offended, “this is a two thousand dollar jacket.”

“If you want to get out of here without dismissing your guards and drawing attention to yourself, then the jacket is the price you will have to pay.”

She rolls her eyes, realising he has won the argument. She shakes off the designer jacket and places it in his offered hand and sits back, waiting to see his plan unfold.

He turns and scans the crowd, his eyes narrowing until he clearly finds what he was looking for. He leans into Fallon’s ear and whispers, “stay here, just finish your drink, I’ll be back in a second.”

She tries to deny the shiver that travels all the way down her spine.

Then he leaves, making his way through the crowd. 

It takes every ounce of restraint she has to resist twisting her body to look for him, but she does as he says, and turns her attention back to the drink in her hand, completely draining it of its contents.

The alcohol buzzing in her system keeps her from overthinking all of this, and she has to admit that without it, she wouldn’t be sneaking into the city with a stranger… Well, he isn’t a complete stranger, he’s _John Lowden’s son._

Still, it’s a little crazy, but thankfully, crazy is kind of her _thing._

She starts to wonder if maybe this Liam is just her brand of crazy too – but before she can fully explore that though, he’s back with a tall brunette on his arm, wearing her jacket.

It clicks instantly what his plan is. In this dimly lit part of the bar, this woman could easily pass as her. She sees him say something to the woman who is still busying herself admiring Fallon’s designer jacket now on her shoulders before he takes Fallon’s hand and tells her to follow him.

She quickly grabs her purse and goes willingly.

He leads her back through the stage door, the music now muffled, the sound of their breaths in her ears and she knows exactly where he’s heading. They practically run down the hallway, her heels clicking against the linoleum and they crash into Jim’s office without notice, taking the man behind the desk by surprise.

“Hi, Jim, sorry man, gotta run,” Liam says as he pulls her through the room, heading for the door which leads to a street at the back of the bar.

The look on the older, heavier, man’s face is one of instant recognition, and shock. “Fallon Carrington?!”

“Hey, Jim, nice to see you again.” she says hurriedly in response, then Liam is pulling them through the outer door, “bye!”

The cold night air hits them instantly as the door swings closed behind them. Simultaneously, they burst out laughing.

Fallon feels high, not from the alcohol, but from the rush of their escape and anticipation of what’s to come next.

Liam lets go of her hand as they take a moment.

“That was crazy,” she manages to wheeze out.

“Well it’s not over yet,” Liam says, once he finally stops laughing, “come on before Jim manages to get out of his chair and chases us.”

He puts his hand on the small of her back to guide her down the dimly lit passage until they turn the corner, stopping at a motorbike propped up in the middle of the narrow street.

“Ta-da,” Liam sings, showing off the vehicle to her.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Oh come on, you’ve come _this_ far.”

She looks him in the eyes, and he somehow calms her nerves from doing something as reckless as straddling her legs either side of a death machine. He’s looking back at her with a challenging expression when he continues, “Come on, Fallon. Take a leap of faith.”

She smirks back at him, because Fallon Carrington never turns down a challenge, no matter how insane this might be.

It’s then that she notices the black leather jacket in his other hand which she can only assume had been what he’d traded hers for with the brunette they’d left standing at the bar to fool her guards.

“Here, put this on,” he says, holding it out for her to put her arms into.

Entirely against her better judgement, she does it; she lets him slip the jacket up her arms, settling on her shoulders. He comes around to her front to zip it up, something which she easily could have done herself, but she’s sort of frozen, enjoying his proximity. Then it only gets worse when he reaches back towards the bike and produces a second helmet. She’s _just_ about to complain about how it will mess up her hair, but then he pushes a strand of it out of the way of her face, swooping close and she’s overcome with the strongest urge to lean forward and kiss him.

Thankfully, he places the helmet over her head, and it’s a physical barrier stopping her from doing just that, and making a huge mistake.

Then Liam stands back and takes a look at her, admiring his work.

“Alright,” he says, putting his own helmet on before straddling the bike, turning on the engine. He motions with his head, “hop on.”

She hesitates.

Sense almost gets to her, but then their heads whip around when they hear footsteps quickly approaching from the passageway, likely her bodyguards chasing after her, their rouse discovered, and she doesn’t think twice. She skips over to the bike and swings her leg over so that she’s sat snug behind Liam.

She tries to not think about how good it feels.

“Hold on tight,” he says.

She does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the first instalment! I am genuinely so excited about this fic, it's been in production for A LONG time. I will release the next chapter around the same time next week. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise made, is a promise kept.
> 
> Liam takes Fallon somewhere to show her how he writes music, the destination certainly being unconventional, which only adds to the mystery that is Liam Ridley.

“Alright, here we are,” Liam announces as he comes to a stop, flicking the kickstand down to keep the motorcycle upright.

Fallon has a delayed reaction taking her arms from around his waist where they had been, securely, for the whole ride through the city. She’d held on to him so tight that she’s surprised he didn’t tell her to ease off, sure that at first, she had been cutting off his air supply.

However, after a while, she’d gotten used to the feeling of being on the bike. Despite being slightly terrified, it gave her a thrill that she never had anticipated.

The city she grew up in seemed entirely different as they had zoomed through it, weaving in and out of the traffic, and it gave her a new appreciation for the neon lights. Then Liam had made a turn to take the freeway, moving them out of the city, and if she whooped out-loud with the joy of the speed, enjoying the thrill of freedom, she’d deny it now.

And now they’re here, in an empty parking lot of a café, at the end of Atlanta’s Airport runway.

Fallon can’t help but feel a little confused, and maybe even disappointed at the choice of destination.

She hops off the bike, taking her helmet off with it.

“Uh,” she begins, looking around and taking in the dark forest surrounding them, “you’re _sure_ this is where you wanted to bring me?”

Admittedly, it does seem like the kind of place a serial killer would bring their victim, and a chill runs up her spine, a nervousness settling in her stomach. Maybe this was a mistake…

Liam takes off his own helmet, placing it next to hers on the bike before running his hands through his hair, attempting to tame it.

“You said you wanted to know how I write music,” he reminds her, throwing her a charming smirk which calms her nerves slightly.

“So, you’re telling me that you come to a closed airport café in the middle of the night, and you write songs?” She questions, dubious about his honesty.

He chuckles instantly, “Sort of. You can relax, Fallon, I’m just going through with my promise. Give me the chance to show you.”

The pop-singer nods, figuring she needs to at least give him a chance, “Alright, show me your secrets,” she says, conceding.

Liam walks over to a picnic bench by the side of the café, and Fallon watches with curiosity as he climbs on top of the bench, sighing as he lays down, stretching out. He pats at the space beside him, almost comically.

Intrigued, she joins him.

There’s just enough room for her to squish into the space next to him, their bodies pressed tightly together, and she’s thankful for the shared heat in the chilly September night.

Liam doesn’t look her way, keeping his eyes glued to the sky, so she decides to join him, and looks up too.

“Oh,” she breathes out, taken by surprise, “that’s beautiful.”

Out here, away from the light pollution of the city, they can see thousands of stars, all twinkling down at them. Her eyes trace over the vast blanket of shining diamonds, taking it in, and she realises there’s something oddly comforting about it.

“It is,” Liam agrees, his voice low and raspy, “sometimes I come here to think and to look up at the stars, the lyrics just kind of come to me naturally,” he begins to explain.

“Well, that makes sense,” she responds, “but why _here?”_

“My dad actually brought me here when I was a kid, during the day when the café is open. It was one of the few things he ever did to spend a little bit of time with me,” He responds, a sadness in his voice.

She knows that feeling all too well.

“Anyway,” Liam continues, “he told me that he liked to just sit there and watch the planes fly by and think about the fact that the people on them are either leaving their homes or they’re coming back to them, and that either way, those people are potentially starting new chapters in their lives. He said it’s nice to remember that you have a choice, you could just go to the airport one day and leave and take a new path.”

That’s a nice concept, Fallon thinks, but doesn’t quite agree. There are far too many commitments in life which means that of course, you aren’t free enough to be able to just hop on a plane and leave everything behind. Sometimes, life is much more complicated than that.

“And then he died, and a couple of years ago I took a wrong turn and ended up passing by here. I have no idea what compelled me to do it, but I stopped, then I laid down on this exact bench, looked up at the stars, and a plane took off and, I just, sang,” he shrugs subtly.

Fallon feels the strings in her heart tugging with every honest word he says, admiring the way he just opened up to her. She looks at him with wide eyes, taking in his handsome features.

“I’m not saying it’s the _only_ way I write music, but, whenever I’m stuck, and I need a little inspiration, I come here,” he explains, and turns his head to meet her gaze, “I thought maybe it could help you too.”

She smiles, “Well, I appreciate that. And thank you for sharing that with me, about your Dad.”

After pouring her heart out and revealing the turmoil she’s still in about Steven’s death back at the bar, it feels like they’re on a much more even playing field now. Fallon knows, of course, that the rock legend, John Lowden, had passed away, the whole world had mourned his loss. But to hear how it had impacted his own son was a different story altogether, and her heart bleeds for him.

Liam smiles back at her, and Fallon can’t help dropping her gaze, staring at his pink lips.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back to her in the small space between them.

Something’s pulling; Fallon feels an intense force drawing her closer to Liam. Subconsciously, they inch towards one another, their warm breaths mingling.

It’s like time’s stood still, and this isn’t reality, it’s just him and her.

Until they’re starkly reminded that isn’t the case.

“Oh my god,” Fallon jumps at the sudden rumbling sound in the distance, startling her, making Liam chuckle at her reaction.

“It’s just a plane,” Liam explains, the sound becoming increasingly louder. She relaxes, rolling her eyes at her over-reaction.

Without looking at the runway, Fallon can tell the moment that the plane takes off with the change of tone.

Their eyes follow it in its path as it soars directly above them.

“Oh my god, it’s so loud!” Fallon laughs out, the noise booming into her eardrums.

She has no idea how Liam manages to write songs this way.

“Just watch it go,” Liam encourages her.

The noise eventually begins to dissipate as the plane moves into the distance, “Now… Sing whatever is in your head _right_ now.”

Fallon sighs, feeling exposed.

This is _a lot._

Songwriting, this kind anyway, is _incredibly_ personal, like exposing your soul and she isn’t sure if she is ready for that.

Liam turns his head to catch her attention, and when their eyes meet, she can see sincerity in his gaze. It’s clear to her that his intentions here are not to make her feel uncomfortable, he’s only trying to help her reach her true potential.

“Just trust me,” he whispers.

She does… It might be crazy, but she does.

With a deep breath, she glances back up at the stars and hesitantly sings the words that drift into her mind. 

**[Fallon]**

_Every kind of word that there is for love_

_They all just seem so far_

_It’s all unreachable and untouchable_

_In a world that’s so unforgivable_

_I can’t just catch these planes_

_I’ve gotta stay where we are_

She surprises herself. The lyrics feel authentic, like they’re from the heart. Even when she writes at her piano, she feels like the words to songs are only there to match the melody, but this is something else. It’s like she is letting her deepest secrets out.

Liam’s smile is beaming when she looks back at him.

“See?” He says, an eyebrow raised.

“Your turn,” she throws back before gazing back up at the stars.

Liam chuckles, accepting the challenge.

“Alright,” he takes a deep breath in and continues Fallon’s song, matching the melody she set.

**[Liam]**

_Girl, what’s keeping you living this lie?_

_There’s nothing that’s too far_

_Look up to the sky_

_There’s nothing that’s unreachable, or untouchable_

_The world is surprisingly forgivable_

_See how the stars shine for you_

_And the diamond that you are?_

_Wow._

That was sort of harsh, but, unfortunately, true.

She sighs, her attention moving to a distant plane she can see passing overhead as she questions that. _Is she living a lie?_ Does she have any control over her destiny? Most of the time, it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.

As she watches the plane move off into the distance, she’s hit with a pang of jealousy in her stomach. They have so much freedom which she just doesn’t have access to.

The next words roll off her tongue easily.

**[Fallon]**

_I’m just frozen_

_This isn’t the path I should have chosen_

_I wanted freedom_

_But I just walked into a different kind of prison_

Liam almost immediately responds.

**[Liam]**

_So start listening to your heart_

_Quiet your overthinking mind_

_Trust in yourself_

_You know exactly what you need to find_

Fallon shifts her focus onto the stars which are beaming down at her, reminding her of her own insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe.

It makes her feel alone.

How can she be alone when she’s _always_ surrounded by people?

Yet, it’s true. There’s _something_ that is keeping her frozen, but she isn’t sure what it is. At least, not on the surface. Perhaps deep, deep down.

Deep, deep down is where she needs to go, so she focuses, and lets it happen.

**[Fallon]**

_I need to find something to keep me strong, to keep me stable_

_If my home can’t be a place_

_Could it be you instead?_

_Could you be my home instead?_

Liam looks at her again, clearly as surprised by her words as she is. She looks back at him too as he takes in a deep breath and continues,

[ **Liam]**

_You’ll compel me to say yes_

_Even if it’s just to see you smile_

_Of course I’ll be your home_

_Even if you only want me for a while_

Fallon replies instantly, looking deep into Liam’s ocean eyes.

**[Fallon]**

_You think I’ll want you for a while?_

_No, that’s a crime_

_I’ll want you for much longer than a while_

_I’ll want you for a lifetime_

He smiles, and it makes her whole body tingle with excitement.

**[Liam]**

_Look back up at the stars_

_They’re infinite and never-ending_

_So you can have me for a lifetime_

_But that’s still only a while_

**[Fallon]**

_Then let’s have a while_

**[Liam]**

_Let’s have a while_

“Whoa,” she breathes out, taking a deep breath in, having to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

It breaks the spell they seem to be under as she refocuses on the dark night sky.

She struggles to fathom where those words had come from, but they felt like they’d been true to her, like they were straight from her well-guarded heart. How this man was able to influence her like this is completely baffling.

_This is insane._

Liam shifts beside her, moving his arm away, and the cool air flowing between them suddenly feels like a physical barrier he’s placed in between them. She hates it.

“How did that feel?” He asks.

“ _Real,”_ she breathes out.

“So it worked?”

She nods, “Yeah, I think so.”

Her mind is still processing everything, taking a moment to catch up, but he doesn’t allow her to let that happen before he’s sitting up with force.

“Great,” he says, his voice is devoid of emotion, like he’s trying to distance himself from her, “well I might let you share my spot if you’re lucky.”

Fallon wants to respond to him, to say that she’d come here with him every night if she could. She wants to tell him that she’s felt more in the past two hours than she’s felt in the past four years, clearly he's something special, and is something worth holding onto.

Yet, she doesn’t say anything, because her mind focuses on how he’s hopping down from the bench, his motions rigid, and he’s unwilling to look back at her.

Sitting up herself, she realises what’s happened. Liam doesn’t have to say anything for her to know that he thinks she’s the one who should address what she sang to him. After all, she’s the one in a committed relationship asking a man she barely knows to stay with her for a lifetime, even if it was through a song.

Liam has every right to shut his emotions off from her – he has is own heart to protect.

“I should probably take you home,” he comments, his back still turned to her.

It feels like there’s a knot in her stomach, a lump in her throat, and her eyes sting as salty tears leak into her vision.

She wants _him_ back, the gentle, funny, flirty man she knew only a few minutes ago.

Slowly, she gets down from the bench and walks over to him with caution, “-Liam,” she pleads, unsure of what to say next to fix all of this.

Before she can reach him, he turns, and the look of emotion swimming in his eyes hits her like a tonne of bricks.

“You’re wrong, by the way,” he says confidently, meeting her gaze.

Her brows furrow in confusion, “About what?”

“About being stuck, you’re not. You can make any music you want, go anywhere you want, say whatever you want, date whoever you want. You’re not frozen, you’re scared.”

Fallon couldn’t have felt more exposed than in that moment.

Her eyes widen, unable to hide the truth in her expression. Liam can read her like an open book, and she realises that _finally_ , someone else can actually see past her walls.

“I see you, Fallon Carrington.”

A warmth flushes throughout her body, and she has no idea what overcomes her, but she rushes forwards, and takes the lapels of his jacket into her hands, pulling him in.

She catches his eyes drop to her lips, his hands automatically drifting to clutch at her waist, pulling her closer.

Yet, millimetres before her lips crash onto his, she stops.

Her body freezes, her brain catching up with her and Fallon groans, dragging herself away. It uses every ounce of restraint she has as she says, “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Fallon, it’s okay,” Liam responds, his tone softer now and his hands drop to his sides, “I respect that.”

“We can be friends, though, right?”

She despises the words as they come out of her mouth, feeling like a total fraud because she doesn’t want to just be his acquaintance. She’s _attracted_ to him, both emotionally and physically, and she wants so much more than friendship with him.

But how can she? When she’s got a fiancé who is probably calling her silenced phone non-stop right now?

The guilt comes crashing down on her in waves.

“Yeah, of course,” he replies, “come on, let’s get you home.”

~

The only words they exchange throughout the drive back is her giving him directions. This time, her hands aren’t so tight around his form, but she still clings on to everything she can about him, the feel of his jacket under her palms, the smell of his cologne on his neck, the way it feels to be pressed up against his strong back, and she stores it all away in her mind like a precious memory.

Afraid she will never experience this ever again.

Knowing that she _shouldn’t_ ever experience this again.

The sun is just beginning to rise by the time they pull up at her giant iron gates, the sky painted with vibrant pink and orange hues. The break of daylight feels like it’s chasing a dream away from them, forcing reality to settle in and take hold of the situation.

It only takes a second for her to stretch and input the code into the keypad, letting them through the automatic gates. It’s only a short drive until they reach the driveway and she has to let go of him.

Her chest feels tight as she steps off the bike, leaving the helmet with him.

“I’ll uh, I’ll call you,” she promises.

“Sure,” he replies, politely.

They both know she never got his number.

Fallon turns, and she stares at the house, _her_ house but the one she shares with her current fiancé, soon to become _their_ house.

Even that knowledge doesn’t stop the hurt that she feels as she walks away from Liam.

“Hey, Fallon?”

She spins immediately, a spark of hope igniting in her gut that maybe he isn’t going to let her try to leave so easily.

“Yeah?”

He smiles, and now in the daylight, with the sun hitting him just right, she sees his eyes glisten, and she falls for him all over again.

Then he shakes his head, “Nothing,” he says, “I just wanted to get one last look at you, in case I never get the opportunity to again.”

She knows she smiles back but is otherwise frozen.

All she wants to do is promise that of course they will see one another again, even though it’s sort of insane for her to promise such a thing when she isn’t sure how she could fit him into her life in the way it currently is.

Liam doesn’t even give her an opportunity to reply before he’s putting his helmet on, revving the engine to his motorcycle, and is gone.

Fallon watches desperately as he disappears down her driveway, and she can’t help but feel like he’s taking a part of her with him too.

~

Fallon goes straight to her bedroom, surprised that she can even sleep, but by the time she closes her blinds and casts the room into darkness, she realises that she’s _exhausted._ The second her head hits the pillow, she’s out like a light.

It must have been hours that she’s slept when she wakes again. She suspects it’s the noise from downstairs which jolts her – Sam’s demanding voice rising up the stairs and she rolls her eyes. They’ve only just arrived home in Atlanta, and she can’t even be given a _day_ of peace.

Speaking of peace – if there’s already people downstairs wanting her attention, she doesn’t _dare_ to look at her phone. Deciding that it isn’t worth the anxiety of even peeking at it, she hops into the shower, hoping that the warm water and steam will clear her slightly pounding head.

She moves slowly, hoping she will eventually stop thinking about _him,_ and all that happened last night. The only way she even knows it was real is the fact that the leather jacket Liam had swapped with the girl in the bar was still on her bedroom floor.

That memory alone makes her smile to herself, remembering how exhilarating it was to run out of there, hand in hand, chasing adventure. She can’t deny that it definitely _was_ an adventure, but as the water from the showerhead hits her, it seems to wash it all away.

This isn’t _her._

Fallon Carrington doesn’t run off with guys she’s just met at a bar. She doesn’t ride motorcycles, and she definitely doesn’t almost kiss said guy – twice.

No, she has to wash it all away – the memories, the guilt, Liam Ridley himself.

Fallon sets to work, scrubbing soap suds into her skin, rinsing out the stench of the Courthouse bar from her hair, being replaced with her rose-scented shampoo.

When she steps out of the shower, she stares in the mirror at her reflection and takes a deep breath in.

This was just a random hiccup.

She’s fine.

Her life is great as it is – she isn’t missing anything.

Liam didn’t rouse anything in her at all.

_Swallow it down, Fallon. Whatever you felt last night, it wasn’t real._

She breathes out and gets dressed before stumbling downstairs, seeking food for her rumbling stomach. It’s probably been about 24 hours since her last meal, so she’s starving.

“Oh, good afternoon, sleeping beauty,” Sam retorts once she enters her kitchen, “good night?”

The accusation in his voice isn’t lost on her, but she decides to ignore it instead.

“Yeah, great, thanks,” she returns as she grabs an apple from the crystal bowl sitting on her white marble kitchen top. She politely asks her cook to make her some food as she takes a seat and bites into the apple.

“Fallon, are you being serious right now?”

She shrugs back at him, “What is your problem? Yes, I had a good night, thanks for ditching me.”

She figures that throwing the responsibility back at him might shut Sam up and stop him from snooping too much.

The memories from last night are hers and hers alone. There is no way she will let anyone taint them with their judgement, especially not Sam.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Sam asks, incredulous, “I ditch you, and you run off with some man you’ve never met, and the only way I know you’re okay is because my phone alerts me that at five in the morning, you come back, on a motorcycle of all things?!”

She raises her eyebrows nonchalantly and makes a mental note to take him off of the permissions to her security camera’s app.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but yeah that’s what happened,” she replies, taking another bite of the apple casually.

Sam sighs dramatically, holding his fingers to his temples, like she’s giving him a headache, “And did anything else happen?”

“Are you asking me if I cheated on my fiancé?” She makes sure to sound offended.

Sam simply shrugs in response, confirming her suspicions.

“No, I didn’t,” she snaps, venom in her voice at his suggestion, “but even if I had, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, I’m happy now,” Sam replies.

“Good.”

They fall into an awkward silence as she eats the salad her cook places in front of her.

She tries her best to not let her thoughts meander too much into what happened last night. In the shower, she’d told herself she would write it off as just one wild night. That Liam was a very handsome, charismatic guy who would find a girl for him soon anyway. He probably has them practically lined up to date him. Her life would have to continue the way it had 24 hours before. It’s easier this way, less complicated. Now that she is sober, it is easier to push the emotions he’d stirred up in her away.

Sam angrily taps away on his phone, sighing occasionally. It’s his _thing_ to let her know he’s pissed off with her.

She’s just about to tell him to cut it out when another member of her staff walks into the kitchen with a large parcel in her hands.

“This just came for you, Miss Carrington.”

“Oh, thanks,” Fallon responds, glancing up at the white box, glaring at it, questioningly.

“There’s no address on it,” Fallon states.

“No,” the staff member confirms, “a man just dropped it off. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Oh,” she replies, her brows furrowed in confusion, and curiously opens the lid.

Her eyes can’t believe what she sees.

Underneath a white envelope with her name on it, is her velvet jacket, the one she was wearing last night. The one she had given away to an unknown woman in exchange for her freedom. _How?_

Then it hits her.

“Was he on a motorbike?” Fallon asks, demandingly.

“Yes, actually.”

She dashes out of the kitchen, heading towards the foyer, but by the time she makes it to the door and peers out, there’s no sign of him anywhere. There is, however, the lingering stench of petrol fumes that his motorbike has left behind.

_Damn it._

She charges back into the kitchen.

“Wait, Fallon, who was that?” Sam asks, his whole body on high alert from seeing her dramatic reaction.

“No one, it doesn’t matter,” she says as she hurriedly picks up the package and makes her way out of the kitchen.

“Did you say he was on a motorbike? Wait, oh my god is that the guy from last night?”

“Sam, drop it,” she demands, punctuating every word, making sure he knows she is deadly serious. To make matters worse, she can hear Sam behind her, following her up the stairs.

“Fallon, we should talk about this, if some guy is dropping off gifts for you then Culha-”

She turns quickly, snarling at him, “Leave me alone, Sam. I _mean_ it.”

There’s a possibility she’ll feel bad about making him look so startled and hurt later, but right now, all she cares about is this package in her hands, and reading the note within.

Satisfied that Sam isn’t going to continue his pursuit of her, she turns on her heels and slams her bedroom door shut. Once she’s sure she is safely alone, the door securely locked, she sits on the bed and slowly opens the envelope. 

The note inside is handwritten, the writing in elegant cursive, reading;

_Fallon,_

_I know that you probably have hundreds of jackets, but it’s what’s in the pocket which matters to you the most._

_I wanted to make sure you got it back._

“Oh my god,” she gasps out loud, scrambling to pick up the jacket. She places her hand inside the left pocket and pulls out the photograph of her and Steven that she’d technically stolen from behind the bar.

She had completely forgotten about putting that in there, but clearly, Liam hadn’t.

Every feeling she experienced last night comes rushing back to her all at once as she looks down at the polaroid film. A sob escapes her, the emotions overwhelming her body, but she realises that it isn’t a cry for the loss of her brother like it usually is, it’s the fact that Liam has returned this precious memory to her out of the goodness of his heart.

Fallon swears this stranger has shown her more kindness in the past twenty hours than she has ever received from anyone in her life. She isn’t even sure what she has done to deserve to be on the receiving end of such generosity.

Unless, Liam is naturally charitable, and therefore, naïve by nature and trusts people too quickly; that thought makes her feel incredibly protective of the man. It breaks her heart to imagine anyone taking advantage of him. 

She picks up the note again and continues to read, seeing he’d written a series of digits on the paper.

_That’s my number, in case you actually did want to meet up in the studio._

_\- Liam a.k.a The Lesser-Known Lowden._

She breathes out a laugh at the name, staring at the note in her hand.

There’s no doubt in her mind what she has to do next, and without a second thought, she grabs her phone from her nightstand, unplugging the cord which was charging it. Ignoring the array of missed calls and texts, she opens up the phone app and dials the number, placing the phone to her ear.

It rings, and she chews at her lower lip in anticipation. Her heart is beating heavy in her chest when she hears _his_ voice on the other end of the call.

_“Hey.”_

“Hi,” she says, smiling instantly, “it’s Fallon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I just want to say a massive thank you to those of you who have taken the time to review and let me know you enjoyed the first chapter. I truly appreciate it, and I hope you enjoyed this one too! See you next week :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallon has a plan to see Liam again, unable to deny a need to explore the feelings he stirred in her further.

Fallon decides unequivocally that not only is Liam’s singing voice golden and hypnotic, but his speaking voice is also. She hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since the phone call yesterday, there is a huskiness to it which reminds her of the roughness of the stubble on his chin, her mind wandering into thinking about how good it would feel scraping against her thigh-

“Hello, earth to Fallon?” Sam waves his hand over her eyes, the motion pulling her out of her daydream. Fallon blinks in quick succession and shakes her head slightly, trying to dislodge the obscene thoughts from her mind.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

Sam sighs, rolling his eyes as he looks back over his clipboard on the kitchen counter.

“I was talking about the next show,” he explains, “they’re saying they want you to do a soundcheck at twelve, but you have an interview with Rolling Stones booked for that time. I can try to reschedule them, but last time they were really pissy, so we don’t want them saying you’re a diva, but if you don’t have enough time to do the soundcheck you run the risk of sounding terrible on stage – which would you prefer?”

Fallon stifles a laugh at Sam’s overdramatic rambling, knowing she’s already pushed her luck with her assistant since screaming at him on the stairs yesterday and offering no explanation for her outburst.

She pops a grape into her mouth, chewing whilst she thinks before offering a solution.

“Just tell the opening acts to do their sound checks at twelve, the interview will be over by the time they’re finished, and then I can do mine,” she suggests.

Sam wordlessly glances back down at the schedule, “Oh yeah, that works,” he admits, his shoulders relaxing as he marks down the changes.

The silence allows her mind to wander again, thinking about her plans for tomorrow, and she absentmindedly breaks off bits of the cracker in her hand, leaving it in a sorry state of crumbs in front her.

Fallon and Liam agreed to meet at the studio on Monday, with no particular plans other than to just see where the day takes them… Except she does actually have a plan. A _big_ one that will ensure her and Liam will be spending much longer than just a day together.

She begins to tap her foot as she thinks about what to wear – she doesn’t want to come across as overly flirtatious, or prude for that matter – and she needs to be prepared for spending the whole day there.

“Fallon, can you _please_ stop with the incessant foot tapping? I’m trying to concentrate here.”

Her knee halts immediately, knowing how annoying it was to be on the receiving end of it.

“Sorry,” she says.

“And I take it as you aren’t going to eat _that?”_ Sam points at the rubble on her plate. She looks down, her stomach lurching slightly at the sight of it, and pushes the plate away.

“No, probably not.”

Sam squints his eyes at her, an assessing expression on his face.

“What’s going on with you?” He asks, accusingly, “you’ve been acting weird ever since we came back to Atlanta.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she snaps back immediately, her voice taut.

Sam raises an eyebrow and looks at her from under his lashes, “Then why are you getting all defensive?”

_Shit._

Now was probably not the time to say its because she spent an incredible night with the son of her Dad’s musical legend, and she can’t get him out of her head so she’s meeting him in the studio on Monday, and she isn’t sure what to wear.

So, she thinks quickly.

“Maybe being back in Atlanta _is_ stressing me out a little,” she begins, “Blake invited me to have dinner at the manor at some point this week. The idea of being surrounded by my incredibly judgmental family is putting me on edge a little.”

Sam pauses for a moment, pondering her point before nodding, like he accepts her excuse, “Tell me which night and I’ll be there for support.”

Her eyes dart towards him and back again, struggling to look him in the eyes, that sickly feeling of guilt crawling up on her, “Thanks, I don’t think we’ve set a day, but I’ll let you know.”

She squirms in her chair, thinking about how she hates lying to Sam, he is after all the best friend she has, always there, always supportive. However, there is no way he would understand this _thing_ with Liam, so for now, she decides it’s better to keep it private until she can at least define it herself.

“Can you believe you only have two shows left of this tour?” He asks, his gaze still focusing on his diary.

She relaxes, thankful for the change of conversation.

“Yeah, it’s crazy.”

“To think, this time in six weeks it’ll all be over,” he adds, “you haven’t really spoken about what you’ll do after.”

She shrugs, hearing the question in his statement, knowing she’ll have to give him a sufficient answer, “I guess I’ll just be in the studio making new material.”

He hums, seemingly satisfied.

“As long as you give the fans what they want.”

_God, she hates those words._

It makes her feel like the weight of the world is living heavily on her shoulders, suffocating her, and she suddenly feels the need to get away. Hopping down from the stool, she whispers under her breath, “Yeah, the fans, you, Culhane, my family…”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m going upstairs, don’t interrupt me,” Fallon instructs, storming out of the room without allowing him to argue with her.

~

Fallon has no idea why she’s pacing and double-checking her makeup every few minutes. _It’s not a big deal_ , she tells herself. They’re just going to the studio together, she’s had sessions with plenty of people in a studio without the need to be so self-conscious and jittery.

Her hands obsessively run over the long black chiffon dress she’s settled on wearing, ensuring there are no creases in the sleeves. She checks herself in the full-length mirror, again, suddenly questioning if the dress is too revealing on her chest, or if her matching black hat is too big.

Thankfully, her spiralling thoughts are cut off with her alarm suddenly blaring, reminding her that she has to leave soon.

She takes a deep breath in, the sudden rush of oxygen feeding her brain, calming it. The nerves die down a little.

Time to go.

Fallon opts to drive herself, taking her Porsche rather than using her driver, it’s another less person asking questions that way.

By the time she arrives at the studio downtown it’s precisely nine o’clock, the time they’d agreed to meet, and luckily finds a space right outside on the street despite the city bustling with morning activity. After doing one last check of her deep red lipstick in the mirror, she steps out of the car and makes her way up the few steps to the studio entrance.

Her hand stills on the handle, her heart pounding in her chest.

She pauses at the door, assuming Liam is probably already inside and gives herself a pep talk to get over her nerves.

“You are here to be his _friend,”_ she breathes, “nothing more, you will _not_ get lost in those stormy blue eyes of his, or stare at his biceps for too long, or let yourself get butterflies when he does that smirk-”

“Morning.”

She jumps at the familiar voice, turning swiftly, her eyes meeting Liam’s.

A hot flush immediately rushes up her neck as she looks down at him standing on the street, wearing jeans and that brown-leather jacket again.

Her eyes dart down as she attempts to assess Liam’s proximity, her mind racing to figure out if he is close enough to have heard her rambling to herself.

“I think it’s a push door if you were having trouble with it,” he points with his free hand towards the door behind her, and when she still doesn’t respond, he dares to chuckle, his voice low and deep, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Fallon finally responds, stumbling over her words as she replies, “You didn’t, I mean, you did… A little,” she mentally shakes herself, forcing herself to get a grip, “but nothing like a good morning scare to wake you up,” she forces on a smile, her voice sing-song like.

Liam’s eyebrows raise, nodding subtly as if agreeing with her.

“Well, I also brought coffee, which is probably a better method to wake you up,” he holds up the cardboard coffee carrier in his hand, showing off two takeaway cups before walking up the steps towards her. He’s suddenly so close that she can smell his cologne. It brings memories of them lying close on that bench to the forefront of her mind, her eyes staring at his lips, “I don’t know how you take it but if your choice of alcohol is anything to go by I figured you’re a black coffee kind of girl.”

Her heart thumps hard in her chest – like it’s trying to get her attention, to tell her something important about this man who has already somehow figured out specific details about her, even down to correctly guessing her go-to choice of coffee.

She musters up the courage to silence it.

Or ignores it, either one works to allow her to actually reply.

“That’s perfect, actually. Thank you.”

Fallon takes the offered cup into her hands before letting them into the building, following Liam’s lead.

As they step into the foyer, they’re welcomed by a young red-headed man behind a desk, tapping away at a laptop.

“Hey, Miss Carrington,” he looks up from the laptop with a kind smile.

“Hi Danny, Liam this is Danny, he maintains this place and generally is just, here, like, _all_ the time. Danny, this is Liam, the singer I told you about over the phone.”

“Hey man,” Danny offers back, his face lighting up as he takes in the young singer-songwriter, “it’s good to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you too,” Liam manages to get out before Fallon is ushering him towards the single wooden door which leads into the studio space. “Uh, see you later.”

“Yep, bye, Danny!” She calls behind her before the door closes, and she’s strangely thankful for the soundproofed door now separating them, like an innate need to be Liam’s only person of interest has woken up inside her.

It’s almost like she hates that Liam clearly has a natural charisma, because maybe, that undefined bond they formed on that bench the other night was only unique to her, and was a regular occurrence for him.

Fallon really doesn’t like the thought of that, that maybe Liam’s “pick-up” line is taking every girl to that bench, and perhaps she’s just fallen prey to a man’s smart, but deceitful charms.

Except, one look at him, and her gut-feeling tells her it’s entirely the opposite situation. No – they definitely formed a connection the other night, one her curious nature cannot deny and _has_ to explore further. Even if it gets her into trouble.

She watches as Liam steps slowly around the room, and smirks when he whistles appreciatively at the vast array of technics, “Nice setup.”

“Thanks,” she responds, taking off her coat and throwing it onto the leather sofa in the corner of the room, “I bet you practically grew up in one of these, what with your dad and all.”

“In the rare moments that he decided to actually take care of me, yeah,” he responds, “although honestly, he would usually just sit me in the corner with a coloring book and tell me not to touch anything.”

She smiles sympathetically, understanding him entirely on a sort of cosmic level. Children of the rich, powerful and famous were more of a hindrance than anything, useful only when they were old enough to contribute to their parent’s business in a meaningful way. At least, that’s the message she’d gotten growing up, and from the sounds of it, Liam’s experience was the same. There’s no doubt in her mind that they’re kindred spirits in some form or another. 

As Liam continues looking over everything with concentration, Fallon humors herself with a thought that in another life he would have made a good detective. Considering she has already been under his calculating gaze, she figures he’d be good at sleuthing, looking for clues and profiling people.

Amused by that thought, she absentmindedly takes a sip of her coffee, the taste on her tongue taking her by surprise. 

“Whoa, this is good,” she holds it up to discover its origin, but the cup is without any branding, remaining a mystery, “where did you get this from?”

She watches as he smiles mischievously, “That’s a secret, but it’s good, right?”

Her eyes narrow in on him, finding it strange but oddly alluring that he was keeping its origins hidden.

“Alright,” she concedes, sitting back, “just as long as you bring more,” she says before taking another sip.

Liam huffs a short laugh, nodding once, “Deal.” 

His attention returns to looking through the glass window pane at the sound booth, where Fallon’s black baby-grand sits.

“Liam?”

He turns towards her, “Yeah?”

“Would you sing that song for me again?” She asks, “the one I heard at the bar the other night. Your closing song.”

His mouth curls up into a smile, “Glad You’re Gone? Sure. I kind of thought you’d want to listen to my other songs that you missed, but-”

“We’ll get to those,” she interrupts, “let’s get you a guitar.”

The truth is that ever since she’s heard that song, she can’t get it out of her head – there’s something about it which she’s sure would resonate with a lot of people, and she knows that hit songs are made that way.

Fallon leads him into the recording booth, moving towards the vast array of guitars hanging on the wall and gestures towards them, “Choose any.”

For a split second, she catches his eyes light up, and he looks like a kid in a candy store as he peruses the collection with concentration. She waits patiently, admiring the way his brows quirk in deliberation before finally coming to a stop, his hand reaching out to grab at the neck of the instrument of his choosing.

The Gibson J-160e.

It doesn’t go unnoticed on her that it’s the same type of guitar Liam’s father famously used for his live acoustic sets. She assumes it must have a sentimental meaning to him, especially with the way he runs his steady hands over the guitar's body, admiring it.

Fallon finds her eyes can’t stop staring at the way his fingers caress the wood, so delicate but with meaning. He has a good touch, she remembers that much, even if it was only brief, once on her shoulder, once on her hand. She chews on her lip, mentally scolding herself.

_It’s completely inappropriate to be jealous of a guitar._

“This will do just nicely,” Liam says around a smile, strumming the strings a little to test them out.

“Great,” she smiles at him, “should we?” She motions with her head back towards the tech room. He follows, sitting on the couch, her on the cushions, him on the arm facing her so that he can easily prop the guitar onto his knee.

Fallon casually sips on her coffee whilst he takes his time, tuning the instrument to his liking, admiring him in his craft.

Eventually, he strokes his fingers over the strings, and with a satisfied smirk, announces that he’s ready.

She smiles at him enthusiastically, placing the coffee cup down to give him her full attention.

He clears his throat before beginning to sing.

The song sounds different without Jim playing at the piano, stripped down.

Still, even without the piano melody, it hits her the same way as last time, giving her goosebumps all over her body, sending shivers down her spine, which she attempts to cover up by readjusting herself in her seat.

Again, she’s mesmerised by him.

Liam’s voice pulls her in, makes her feel like _she’s_ the one who broke his heart. Fallon finds that she wants to physically reach out and touch him, comfort him and cure him of this pain that he’s feeling.

Once she notices herself leaning forwards, about to do just that, she stops and casually sits back, being cautious to not get too lost in the song.

It’s a hit, that’s for sure.

 _The world deserves to hear it,_ she thinks, as he finishes off the last few notes.

“Is that song really about your ex?” She enquires once he comes to an end, his hands stilling on the strings.

He carefully sets the guitar down by the side of the couch, “Yeah.”

“Well, I have to say I’m glad I’m not her,” Fallon comments, “basically singing a song about how you’re glad she’s gone?” She grimaces comically, “it’s beautiful, but _harsh.”_

Liam laughs breathily, “We’re actually on pretty good terms.”

“What happened?” She asks, her head tilting to the side subtly as he looks away in thought.

“I don’t know, exactly,” he admits, shrugging, “Ashley and I were childhood friends, our families are on good terms. I mean, we had fun together, and I don’t know, a part of me still loves her, but…” He tapers off, his eyes glancing down, a little wrinkle forming between his brows which Fallon has quickly associated with his thinking face.

“But?” She asks, drawing out of the vowel in the word.

“But,” then he looks up, meeting her gaze, his eyes soft and gentle, “there wasn’t the passion or the _spark_ that I think you’re supposed to have with the person that you want to commit to spending the rest of your life with. We both realised that, thankfully, before the wedding and called it off. We’re much better off just being friends.”

His words feel like a knife piercing through her skin.

_Passion?_

_Spark?_

The engagement ring on her finger suddenly feels heavier than a ton of bricks.

Fallon’s thoughts instantly begin to spiral, setting her on edge, and she catches them before they go any further, metaphorically pouring petroleum on them and setting them alight. _Now_ is not the time to be thinking about her own relationship issues. 

She clears her throat, “Well, it’s a great song, regardless. I think that we should record it, I mean I have some thoughts about the melody. I honestly believe it could be a hit.”

Liam looks at her, surprise clearly written on his features, “You want to spend your time helping me record a song?”

“Yeah,” She responds, without hesitation.

“Why?” He asks, “when you could be doing that for yourself.”

Granted, this is the first time she has ever offered to do this, but Liam has already shown her so much kindness that she figures it’s the least she can do to repay him.

“Because, Liam,” she begins, leaning towards him, looking him dead in the eyes, “good songs deserve to be _heard.”_

Liam gives her a look, a sort-of half smirk, half frown, and she feels hot under his gaze, unsure of what he’s thinking, until he says, “You are not how people paint you to be, Fallon Carrington.”

She snickers, “I’m sure. Did your mother never tell you not to believe everything you read?”

“Oh, my Mother has told me a _lot_ of things,” Liam responds, “but she’s a story for another time.”

“Crazy mothers?” Fallon asks, “yet another thing we have in common.”

He smiles fondly at her, and she can feel herself mirroring his expression.

“So, are you in?” She asks, surprised at the knot forming in her stomach as his chin lifts subtly, defiantly, his eyes squinting slightly.

“Under one condition,” he replies.

Her brows furrow, throwing him a quick look of confusion, “And what’s that?”

“It’s your turn to sing to _me_ one of _your_ songs.”

She scoffs, not taking him seriously, “Can’t you just look me up on Youtube?”

Liam shakes his head, speaking in a playful tone, “It’s not the same. Come on, Fallon, I showed you mine, you should show me yours.”

_Oh god._

Her cheeks immediately blush, burning, in fact, and she has to look away, glancing instead at the recording studio.

“Alright,” she sighs, conceding, “fine.”

Fallon pushes herself up from the sofa and makes her way through the door, stepping towards her piano to the right of the room, hearing Liam’s footsteps close behind.

With every step she takes, she feels an uneasiness – a nervousness, and it’s so uncharacteristic that it takes her by surprise.

_What am I nervous about?_

She takes a seat at the bench and busies herself getting into position, watching out of the corner of her eye to see Liam round the side of the piano, leaning onto its black silk-painted wood casually with his forearms.

“Any requests?” She asks as she stares up into his eyes, her fingers poised over the piano keys.

“Nope,” he replies, a smile forming on his face, “it’s completely your choice.”

Her eyes are wide as she looks at him, vulnerability passing over her features as she contemplates doing something entirely out of her comfort zone. Fallon doesn’t want to play him just _any_ song, especially when she doesn’t necessarily _like_ any of them. Honestly, she feels like it would be embarrassing to sing an acoustic version of Leave It At That; that song was built solely to get teenage girls to dance, and nothing more.

Fallon chews her inner cheek and looks down, willing her fingers to play a melody they haven’t in a while, testing if they can.

Surprisingly, she remembers the tune.

To double-check, Fallon plays just the important notes a few more times until she’s satisfied she won’t mess up halfway through the song, Liam waiting patiently as she does so.

“I’ve uh,” she glances back up at him as her fingers halt, “I’ve never played this for _anyone_ before, so…”

 _Be gentle,_ she thinks, finishing off her sentence in her mind.

Liam’s eyes soften immediately, and she can tell that without having to say so, he will be.

It gives her the courage she needs.

Her fingers start back up again at the melody, and she takes a deep, shaky breath in before singing.

_I stood frozen at the threshold of our place_

_One day I might return_

_But how can I when I won’t see your face?_

_And I begged, but no one heard me_

_I have to be strong, oh I don’t have a choice_

_But you used to be my shadow_

_Now I can’t hear your voice_

_And I begged, but no one heard me_

_I tell myself that I’ve simply lost my faith_

_How can I go on_

_When I crave your embrace?_

_And I begged, but no one heard me_

_All the colors in the world_

_They all faded away_

_Now I’m wading through the crowd_

_Existing in the grey_

_You used to be my shadow_

_Now you’re just a memory_

_I begged and I begged for you to come back_

_But no one heard me_

_You didn’t hear me_

_I haven’t looked at a photograph of you in a while_

_I don’t know why_

_Because I so miss your smile_

_And I begged, but no one heard me_

_Tell me, how can I even go on?_

_I’m haunted by the look in your eyes_

_There was nothing there, suddenly gone_

_And I begged, but no one heard me_

_I get that you didn’t intend to leave me with the fall_

_But you never fought,_

_And those demons in your head, they won after all_

_And I begged, but no one heard me_

_All the colors in the world_

_They all faded away_

_Now I’m wading through the crowd_

_Existing in the grey_

_You used to be my shadow_

_Now you’re just a memory_

_I begged and I begged for you to come back_

_But no one heard me_

_You didn’t hear me_

_I can’t stand the smell of lilac, it reminds me so much of you_

_And I still turn over the radio if they’re playing your favorite tune_

_One memory I can’t run from is when we stole Dad’s car_

_And we were stupid and reckless, and crashed it within the hour_

_I wouldn’t trade that for anything, even if I still have that scar_

_Every memory of you I hold dear in my heart_

_All the colors in the world_

_They all faded away_

_Now I’m wading through the crowd_

_Existing in the grey_

_You used to be my shadow_

_Now you’re just a memory_

_I begged and I begged for you to come back_

_But no one heard me_

_You didn’t hear me_

_Oh you didn’t hear me,_

_And you are the only one I wish could hear me_

She keeps her eyes trained on the piano keys as her hands come to a stop, enveloping them in silence, and she wills with all her might for her emotions to remain at bay.

That was tough, _really_ tough.

After years of hardly even thinking about that song and then out of the blue, playing it again brought so many painful feelings rushing back all at once. It feels like she’s drowning in it, the memories choking her.

She uses all the strength she has in her to chase them away.

It takes a few deep breaths before she dares to look up again, and is struck by the sight of Liam’s watery eyes and open regard gazing back at her.

“That song is about your brother, isn’t it?” He asks, his voice low.

She responds with a weak nod of her head, her voice only just above a whisper, “Yeah, I wrote it just after he died.”

There’s a moment of silence as Liam takes that in, offering her a sympathetic smile.

“It’s a beautiful song,” he declares, and it causes the hairs on her arms to stand on end.

She hasn’t heard that said about her music in a _really_ long time. Instead, it’s all, _“that’s songs a hit,”_ , _“this is really empowering,”_ or, Culhane’s favorite: _“the charts will love this.”_

Fallon has to blink rapidly, her eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to stop the tears threatening to blur her vision from forming.

“Thank you,” she responds, feeling her cheeks becoming hotter, knowing she is blushing. Her gaze travels away, embarrassed by her reaction.

“No, thank _you_ for sharing that with me,” Liam continues, “and Fallon, I would _love_ for your help in producing my record.”

Her eyes snap back to his, her eyebrows raised, “You’re not just saying that because you feel sorry for me, are you?” She asks, her insecurities making themselves known, but wrapped around a breathy chuckle, attempting to seem like she’s only joking.

“No,” Liam responds, smiling, “if you can make songs as heartfelt as the one you just sang for me, I know my song is in good hands. I trust you.”

Her heart suddenly skips a beat.

She tries to ignore it.

“So you’re in?”

Liam nods, “Yeah, I’m in.”

“Alright,” She smiles, nodding affirmatively, and swallows her emotions down like a pill. To work. “Let’s do this.” 

~

The day goes well, they work hard on the song, but they’ve only just scratched the surface. It turns out that as a producer, Fallon is a bit of a perfectionist, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he rolls with it, clearly invested in getting it exactly right too.

They eventually call it a day by seven, never once taking a break.

“For what it’s worth,” Liam says as they’re walking out of the studio together, “you’re the best producer I’ve ever had.”

“You mean, the only one?” She teases as they step through the door and breathe in the chilly evening air.

“Kind of,” he smiles that mischievous smile which makes her feel weak in the knees, which is unfortunate when she’s trying to walk down the steps to the street in tall heels, “but in all honesty, I really enjoyed working with you today. We make quite the team.”

Fallon turns to him once they reach her car, smiling, “We do, don’t we? So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” He nods before walking away, “see you tomorrow.”

“Bring the coffee, okay. Promise?” She throws his way, making him laugh.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

~

By the time Fallon makes it home through the city’s traffic, she’s exhausted and hungry. The first thing she does when she makes her way into her house is take off her heels before raiding the fridge in her kitchen, searching for leftovers.

She spots some pasta puttanesca in the back and sets about reheating it. Once she is sat at the countertop, she reaches for her phone and realises that despite usually being glued to it, this is the first time she has checked it today.

“Shit.”

Her stomach drops as she sees the notification that she’d missed the conference call with Culhane. It only takes one quick glance at the rest of her notifications to see the flurry of texts and missed calls from him. 

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Quickly, she hits the option to facetime him, her heart pounding in her chest. He answers almost immediately, his face scowling from the other side of the screen.

“Hey,” she says, trying to act casual.

“Hey? That’s all you have to say? Hey? We had a meeting, Fallon. What the hell were you doing?”

She shrugs, knowing that the most effective way to calm Michael down is to just downplay the situation, “I was in the studio. Inspiration hit, I wasn’t looking at my phone.”

“The studio? I’m your producer, why were you in the studio without me?”

“Because you aren’t here,” she bites back, and immediately regrets it, knowing it’s only going to add fuel to the fire that already is his temper.

“Oh right, yeah, throw that back in my face. But when I do set time aside to speak with you, you don’t answer!” She almost flinches at the fury in his tone of voice.

“Okay, chill. We can talk now, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal because yet again you didn’t listen to me about your arrangement for your closing song and-“

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, this _again_.”

“Yes, this again. Fallon you have 2 shows left, you have to make sure they go perfectly.”

“Right.”

She leans the phone against the fruit bowl in front of her and reaches for her laptop which she’d left sitting on the countertop that morning, opening the lid and watching the screen spring to life. 

“And now you’re, what on your laptop whilst I’m trying to talk to you? Real classy, Fallon.”

She types in the address she is searching for as she says, “Shut up, give me a second.”

After a few clicks, she finds what she’s looking for, “Okay, listen.”

_“If you read my previous blog post, I’m sure you will be expecting that this review will be a rehashing of my expectations I set before going to the ‘Fallon’ concert in Atlanta last night. If you haven’t read the blog post, I will give you a filtered version; I expected to be surrounded by teenage girls screaming at the tops of their lungs – which I was. I also expected the pop-star in question to lip-sync her autotuned garbage at me the whole time – which did not happen. For, possibly once in my life, I was pleasantly surprised by a pop artist. Whilst I may not enjoy her music, which is still factory-produced and has lyrics which screams ‘female empowerment’ but is really just more about being obnoxious and uncompromising, I have got to hand it to the woman – she has a decent set of lungs on her. She can also play the piano pretty well. She kept the energy levels going from start to finish, I didn’t hear one off-key note. She was on time and ended the show, ensuring she finished her whole set, was polite to the audience despite those rumours circulating last year of her screaming at a group of fans. Fallon Carrington, I may not like your music, but I respect you. Kudos.”_

She closes the laptop lid and stares at her phone screen with a stubborn expression.

“That critic was ready to slate me, and that’s the review they gave. Ergo, that arrangement is fine, Michael. I’m not changing it. End of discussion.”

He sighs, long and drawn out, “You are the most difficult person I have ever had to work with.”

The words Liam said to her only an hour ago immediately echo around her head, _‘I really enjoyed working with you today. We make quite the team.’_

It’s a stark contrast of opinion about her professionalism to the one Culhane just offered.

“Well, the good news is that after today I’m pretty sure that I can be in the studio without you,” Fallon returns, “I’m even helping another musician.”

Culhane looks incredibly offended by that.

“Are you telling me you don’t want me there?”

Fallon thinks about it for a second, her fiery temper getting the best of her, “Yeah, I am.”

He scoffs, “Fine, then I won’t.”

The metaphorical grip he has over her loosens, like a tight knot that you just can’t unravel, but finally, something _shifts_ and she’s given an extra inch of room to move.

To _breathe._

“Great,” she throws back, “maybe that space will actually help us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. Maybe you’ll stop being such a colossal dick to me if once in a while if you remember that I’m not just your little money-making project.”

Fallon knows that comes from a place of insecurity, always feeling the need to be perfect for him to make sure he keeps his attention on her.

He’s silent for a moment before he changes his tune, and the conversation does a complete 360.

“Aww, baby,” he pouts, his voice softer now, “you know you’re more to me than that. You’re my girl. Listen, I’ll prove it to you. I’ll surprise you, you’ll see. I’ve got to go now, but call me tomorrow?”

She gulps, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. Apparently, that’s all it takes with him, one little compliment, and she feels like she’s won a prize, and it becomes addictive, like a game she’s always going to end up losing, “Alright, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, I love you,” Culhane says through the phone, sing-song-like, almost like he’s speaking to a child.

“Yeah, you too,” she returns, in almost a whisper.

Then he disappears from the screen.

And just like that, the knot is tightened again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! See you next week for a BIG chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After six weeks of working solidly on Liam's song in the studio, Fallon has a plan to make sure the world hears it.

Fallon and Liam find themselves falling into a comfortable pattern.

They meet every morning at nine on the dot, she always drives herself, he always turns up with the coffee she loves so much from that mysterious place. Then they spend the day experimenting with music, recording Liam’s song in between ordering lunch, generally ending the day just before the sun begins to set.

By the first week Fallon finds it much more manageable to be around him, despite the attraction still being there – sometimes dangerously so – she finds a genuine friendship between them blossoming.

Hours in total isolation, save for Danny who spends most of his time to himself, helps. They share stories, both funny and tragic with each other freely, and even when they sit in silence, it’s comfortable, almost like they’ve been friends their whole lives and don’t feel the need to continually fill the silence with idle chit-chat.

When she goes home at night, alone, Culhane still in LA, she initially feels the loss of Liam’s presence to the point where by the first Wednesday night they begin calling each other as they eat dinner, and watch movies or whatever is on the TV.

_“Hey, it’s Friday, weren’t you supposed to go to dinner with your Dad tonight?”_

“I have a _dreadful_ headache,” Fallon responds down the phone, sitting back onto her sofa comfortably, and continues dramatically, “I couldn’t possibly entertain the thought of being surrounded by people in this sorry state.”

She hears Liam chuckle down the phone, _“Liar. You were fine an hour ago.”_

“Yeah, but my father doesn’t need to know that.”

He laughs again, and it fills her with that warmth in her chest that she’s quickly come to associate with _Liam_.

_“Alright, well I’m not complaining. At least I’ll have some company to watch Legally Blonde.”_

“Oooh,” She perks up, grabbing the remote to make her TV flicker to life, “that is one of my all-time favorite movies.”

_“Legally Blonde? Of all the movies in the world, Legally Blonde is one of your favorites?”_

“Do not judge me, Mr Ridley. It’s a story about a woman being repeatedly told she _can’t_ do something and defying every man in her life to prove them wrong. Whilst wearing Gucci. It’s very inspirational. Elle Woods is a personal role model of mine,” she explains.

_“Ah, now I see the similarities. I just like the film because Reese Witherspoon is hot.”_

“Ew.”

Why does that bother her so much? And why is she suddenly feeling the urge to go blonde?

_“Are you really going to deny that Reese Witherspoon is hot?”_

She scoffs, “No, but I just think that you could do better.”

_“Than Reese Witherspoon?”_

“Mmhmm.”

_“Well. That is a compliment I will happily take.”_

Fallon smiles, biting on her bottom lip as she imagines what he looks like right now, a smirk on his face, his eyes dazzling in the way that they do.

“You’re welcome,” she throws back, “okay, which channel is it on?”

To further prove that the film is one of her favorites, Fallon recites the big scenes word-for-word, much to Liam’s annoyance. They laugh as Fallon attempts to convince him that she would make a good defence lawyer, to which Liam responds that if he were ever to require one, he would resolutely ensure not to hire her, claiming that she has the brains, but not the patience.

“Excuse me, I would be fine in a court room, Liam,” she insists.

_“You’d probably throw the gavel across the room whilst shouting ‘objection’”_

“I would not!” She responds down the phone, mocking being offended. Especially considering he is actually correct.

Still, to get her revenge, she shares her theory that he could moonlight as a detective, and is equally offended when she then repeats his earlier words to him that she wouldn’t hire him if he did.

She finds it so _easy_ with him, carefree. Fallon feels like she can be herself around him, which is something she has never experienced in her life before, with anyone. Even Steven. There isn’t that fear of judgement there, afterall, Liam seems to already know her _so well_ and yet he hasn’t ran for the hills.

Better yet, she finds he makes her a better person. Things which would have usually annoyed her or make her lose her temper just don’t seem to matter anymore. They feel like minuscule problems in a world full of promises of happiness and laughter, all of which she experiences when she’s around him.

Even Sam notices a difference when she treats him to a shopping spree on the weekends. Sam comments that for once, he feels like the best friend she promises he is and not the assistant she pays him to be.

As for Liam’s record, they work on it tirelessly and from scratch. Fallon suggests a brand new arrangement which Liam at first is dubious about, but once she plays him the first demo she’s constructed, he seems to instantly fall in love with it.

So they work, and they talk, and they laugh, and six weeks go by like a blur.

~

Fallon doesn’t remember how they got into this position, lying on her back on the studio floor, Liam’s weight on top of her, their clothes strewn around them.

 _“Oh god,”_ she moans out as he dips his head low, sucking hard on the skin of her neck as he snaps his hips with determination.

He’s inside of her _so_ deep, moving _so_ slow, but it feels _so_ good.

Her fingers are grasping at his biceps, her nails digging into the strong muscle further with every thrust that sparks pleasure at her core.

 _“Mmm, Liam,”_ she whines as he moves his lips up, his breath hot, tickling the shell of her ear.

“You feel so good, Fallon,” Liam whispers, low and gravelly. He grinds his hips, stirring inside of her for emphasis, making her gasp out in surprise at the bolt of electricity it sends up her spine, her nerve endings crying out in satisfaction. “I’ve wanted to do this for the past 6 weeks,” he admits, and she can’t help but nod her head in agreement.

 _God,_ she’s wanted this too.

Every small touch, every heated glance, the torture of them being stuck in the tiny recording booth together… She really couldn’t help her mind from going _there._ It had all clearly built up, leading to _this._

And _this_ was fucking heaven.

Fallon turns her head so that she can breathe in the scent of him, that gorgeous leather and citrus aroma mixed with sweat and pheromones, and she groans out, her mind wholly clouded with nothing but a fog of red hot lust.

 _“Fuck,”_ she cries out once he changes position, pulling almost all the way out, and when he pushes back into her, the tip of his cock slides over her G-Spot, “that’s the spot, Liam, right there.”

“Yeah?” He asks, doing it again, making her whine out, her back arching up into him. “Want me to go faster?”

“God yes,” She breathes out as she begins to move her hips in time with his driving into her, the feeling overwhelming, making her throw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut, screaming out his name. She forgets completely about the world outside of this room, caring only about him and how they’re joined together. She should be feeling guilty and ashamed, but how can she when it feels _this_ good? 

“I want you to cum for me Fallon,” Liam says before bending so that he can take one of her hardened nipples into his mouth, his tongue running over the sensitive nub, “I want to _feel_ you clenching around me,” he says as he moves over to her other breast to give it some much-needed attention.

Oh, she will.

The pleasure is already pooling at her core, spiking, her need for release growing acutely with every thrust, every flick of Liam’s tongue, every grope, every kiss against her neck.

She clings to him, burying her face against his neck, whimpering, trembling. Every thought she has is of him, and him only.

“Let go,” he responds into her ear, nibbling on the lobe as he drives into her relentlessly, stimulating such a sweet spot. She feels the pleasure peak, and gasps at the first feel of her walls fluttering around him.

“I’m-”

The sound of her alarm blaring loudly yanks her violently from the dream. The obscene images her subconscious mind had managed to formulate for her melt away as she takes in the interior of her bedroom.

She isn’t in the studio.

Liam isn’t here.

She’s alone.

“Oh god,” she breathes out as she runs her hands through her hair, realising what had happened.

_Great._

Just as she was getting used to being around Liam, seeing him only as her _friend,_ she goes and has a very realistic sex dream about him in a position she has definitely accidentally fantasised about a few times.

Fallon isn’t entirely sure if she is more annoyed that she woke up as the dream was getting to the good part or that she had the dream at all.

 _It’s the second one,_ she decides, _it should definitely be the second one._

Her arm reaches out to grab her phone from the nightstand, glancing at the screen and dismisses the blaring alarm.

Falling back against the pillows, she huffs out, feeling frustrated, and still horny. So much so that she squirms, feeling uncomfortable and hot all over.

“Damn it,” she curses, chewing at her bottom lip.

She needs a distraction to keep that dream from replaying in her head like a filthly, but damn good X-Rated movie.

Unlocking her phone, she scans through her notifications, seeing nothing of great importance and reminds herself of something work related, like this weekend and how if all goes according to plan, Liam’s going to become a star overnight.

With that thought in mind, she realises that hundreds of people are about to search his name, and she has no idea what might even pop up. Knowing Liam, it wont be anything bad or gossip worthy, but… She should at least _check._

It only takes her a couple of seconds to type in his name and hit search. She scrolls a little through the results, seeing nothing of great importance skimming over things like his spotify, a list of sets he has planned for the next month, the courthouse lounge website, until a Soundcloud account catches her attention. Her eyebrow raises in interest, she wasn’t even aware he had one. Curiously, she opens the link and scans her eyes over the profile.

It’s clearly _his_ account, there’s a list of the songs from his Old Courthouse Lounge set. He’s played them all for her over the past few weeks, bar _one_ titled ‘Bad Things’ which was uploaded only 2 days ago. She shakes her head in confusion, having no clue when he had the time to record a new song, and wondering why he hasn’t told her about it.

Grabbing her headphones, she quickly connects them and presses play on the song, closing her eyes to fully be immersed in it.

A bass line plays first, low, with slow and sultry tempo. It has an alternative, indie vibe to it, and it’s undeniably a sexy tune, especially as a complementary guitar riff joins in. 

Then she hears _him,_ taking in a deep breath, almost like a gasp. It sends a chill up her spine.

_Oh, Momma, I got myself caught up in something bad_

_There’s something I want so much that it’s driving me mad_

Fallon feels like her heart skips a beat, her breath catching in her throat. It’s distinctively Liam’s voice, but _good_ _lord,_ he sings so low, raspy and slow that it uncovers a whole new side to his tone. He sounds incredible.

_How have I let something like this get such a hold on me?_

_I’m not a religious man, but she’s got me praying for my sanity_

Her pulse accelerates, his voice affecting her in a way she knows it shouldn’t, but she just can’t resist it. It causes her to squirm, and she squeezes her thighs together in search of some relief at her core which begins pulsating with need.

_Don’t be judgemental, trust me I’m stronger than you_

_If you were me, I promise you’d be under her spell too_

No such relief comes.

It’s subconscious, she swears it is as her right-hand travels down her form, feeling over her breast, teasing herself by squeezing slightly before sliding her palm further down, feeling how sticky and wet she is _there_.

_You see, ever since we met, which kind of seems fated_

_I listen to you speak but my minds imagining you naked_

It only takes a light touch to her bundle of nerves to make her moan out, already sensitive from the eroticism of the dream, now this song and Liam’s voice combined… It’s irresistible. She _knows_ this is wrong, but she just can’t stop her fingers from dancing over her clit, setting off sparks of pleasure.

_Excuse me_

_And my corrupted mind_

_I’ll keep it all hidden_

_A secret you’ll never find_

_Promise not to touch_

_Unless you ask me to_

_I’ve gotta admit one thing to you darling_

_Oh_

_I really, really do_

_I really wanna do bad things with you_

She groans out loud at those words, thinking about how bad they were in that dream. Practically making love in public, completely unclothed, on the floor.

_Oh Daddy, you really should have warned your son_

_Not to play around with a forsaken one_

_Now I’m in big trouble ever since I had that dream_

_Cause now I can’t stop thinking about needing to make her scream_

_Fuck, it’s so hot hearing Liam sing words like that._ Against her better judgement, she picks up the pace with her fingers, making circular motions with determination, feeling her orgasm on the horizon.

_Feels like the universe is yelling at us that we'd fit right together_

_Give me one night to prove it, I’ll be ready for you whenever_

She thinks about that – one night with him. It pulls the memories of those dreams to the forefront of her mind and she envisions him on top of her again, imagines that he’s the one giving her this pleasure.

_Excuse me_

_And my corrupted mind_

_I’ll keep it all hidden_

_A secret you’ll never find_

_“Fuck,”_ she pants out, the feeling increasing, becoming intense as she continues the fantasy.

_Promise not to touch_

_Unless you ask me to_

_I’ve gotta admit one thing to you darling_

_Oh_

_I really, really do_

_I really wanna do bad things with you_

Her left hand grips tight at the bedsheets, ravelling them into her fist, anchoring her as her climax builds.

_Oh, sweetheart,_

_I’m so lightheaded_

_Dizzy and faint,_

_Keep holding my breath_

_It’s becoming such a pain_

_‘Cause If I get too close and smell the roses on your skin_

_I’ll be fallin’ for you all over again_

_And again_

_And again_

_And again_

She throws her head back, knowing she’s _really_ close as the pleasure begins to spike, taking over everything in her thoughts. Her attention narrows in on the sensations and the timbre of his voice, hardly taking in the words by now.

_Excuse me_

_And my corrupted mind_

_I’ll keep it all hidden_

_A secret you’ll never find_

_Promise not to touch_

_Unless you ask me to_

_I’ve gotta admit one thing to you darling_

_Oh_

_I really, really do_

_I really wanna do bad things with you_

“God, yes,” she screams out as her orgasm hits her hard, making her see stars, her legs trembling.

_So what do you say?_

_Will you let me do bad things to you?_

Fallon gasps out, distantly registering the song fading out as she comes down from her high, panting for air.

Her grip on the bedsheets loosen, the pleasure ebbing away, her senses coming back to her.

That’s when the sickening feeling of guilt starts slowly creeping in.

~

“You’re really quiet today,” Liam comments from his spot across from her as he prepares his lunch.

His voice manages to jolt her out of her reverie, looking his way. There’s a questioning, almost sad look in his eyes as he catches her gaze, becoming yet another thing for her to feel remorseful about.

“Sorry,” she returns, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie. Fallon _does_ have a lot on her mind, especially after this morning, but her being quiet was not an accident.

The truth is that she feels so confused about that dream and then his song and what she _did_ whilst she was listening to it that she’s purposely distanced herself from Liam all morning, just in case she does something. Something an engaged woman shouldn’t do. Having explicit thoughts and dreams about another man really is a can of worms that she decides need to stay firmly shut.

Then, there is the whole topic of that song that he’s kept hidden from her to consider, and her mind is entirely torn on the subject.

On the one hand, Fallon feels so utterly ashamed of touching herself that she isn’t sure that she can even bring up the topic of that song with Liam, but she desperately wants to know where it came from and why he hasn’t told her about it.

_It all feels like such a mess._

“About this weekend?” He asks, pulling her out of her spiralling thoughts, “or is there something else bothering you?”

_This weekend._

Now that is a topic she can throw herself into, because that is _work_ related, and it requires planning and strategising and scheming – all of which are things she is talented at.

“Will you come with me to San Francisco tomorrow?” She asks boldly, pulling off the metaphorical band-aid.

Liam raises his eyebrows in surprise as he pops a tuna maki into his mouth, chewing slowly as he contemplates what she’d said, “For your penultimate show?”

She hums, keeping her eyes fixed on her chicken teriyaki salad as she moves the food around the bowl with the chopsticks in her hand, “Well, the whole weekend actually. The last 2 shows are tomorrow, then Saturday, so you could stay for both. I’m sure we can easily get you a room at the hotel.”

She looks up with a smile, meant to persuade him into agreeing.

“You’re sure?” He asks slowly, his eyes boring into hers.

_No._

Them in a hotel whilst these feelings still sit heavy between them? Sounds dangerous.

Yet, she knows there’s a small part of the two of them that _likes_ danger, and besides, she’s come this far with this plan. She can’t back out now just because of one little sex dream.

She has to suck it up, forget about it and carry on as if it never happened. As for that song, unless he decides to tell her about it, she’s going to forget all about it too. No listening to it, no analysing the lyrics, no nothing. It does not exist.

“Yes. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have offered, would I?” She teases, smiling, and it feels good. This little banter they have between them is their version of normal that she’s grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. It settles her.

He smirks at her, nodding, and she realises that he probably assumes that it’s because she’s nervous and wants him there for support, “Alright, sure I’ll be there.”

She feels her cheeks burning, feeling both relieved and giddy at the same time, “I knew you’d make the right decision,” she responds before leaning forwards and distracting him by stealing a piece of sushi from his plate, making him gasp out loud and her involuntarily giggle at his over-dramatic act. It keeps him from asking too many questions.

~

The _whole_ thing is planned with meticulous detail to take Liam by complete surprise. She figures that’s the only way to get her plan to work, because otherwise, he would have just point blank refused to even get on the plane with her to San Francisco.

It all happens on the night of the first show, Fallon ensuring that Liam’s standing at the side of the stage, in clear view of her.

She’s glimpsed over a few times, ensuring he’s still there and catches him grinning back at her, like he’s proud.

Why, she’ll never know.

She isn’t entirely proud of her own performances, there’s no sentimentality to it, no _art._

But, she’s almost at the end of this whole tour, which is why she has to take this opportunity for him _now,_ even if he isn’t ready for it yet.

They get to a brief interlude, and Fallon rushes off stage as the crew make the necessary quick changes to her last set.

She freshens up, the costume department swarming her to make quick alterations to her outfit. They detach her skirt so that she is now in black leather shorts and they dispose of the jacket she was wearing, the matching leather bralette now on display. Despite the obvious sexualisation of her body, she is actually thankful for the reduction of clothing because it stops her from overheating under the hot stage lights.

At this point her crew are as efficient as a formula 1 pit stop, circulating around her, her makeup assistant touching up her makeup, her hairstylist spraying more hairspray into her curls, keeping them volumized.

But tonight, time is tight, and Fallon has to take 10 extra seconds to unfold her plan, so she runs off from her crew before they’re fully finished towards where Liam and Sam are standing.

“Alright, get Liam set up,” she shouts towards the sound crew.

His eyes widen in shock, “What?”

“You heard me,” she states firmly as she approaches, stopping only a foot away from him, “you’re going out there.”

Right on queue, a member of her crew passes his guitar to her, and her technics team arrive, ready to prepare him.

He stammers, “Fallon, I can’t-”

The pop singer simply smirks at him confidently before pressing the guitar's neck into the palm of his hand. She looks straight into his eyes, refusing to allow him to deny her, “Just trust me.”

The countdown coming through her earpiece pulls her away and back out onto the stage. With every step she takes, she begs and prays that Liam will follow her out here and show the world what he’s capable of.

“San Francisco,” she shouts through the microphone, “this tour has been the last 18 months of my life, and I cannot believe that this is the second to last show.”

The audience erupts, her ear pierces working on reducing the volume level.

She pauses for a moment, waiting for the crowd to die down a little before continuing, “I have a little treat for you. I brought a friend with me tonight, and he wrote a song that I think you’re really going to like, do you want to hear it?”

The whole arena bursts into applause, the atmosphere feeling charged, “Can we get Liam Ridley to the stage please?”

When she turns her head to look at him, she isn’t surprised to see a small smirk on his lips, shaking his head at her as he approaches.

Does he fit in, wearing his red and black plaid shirt, leather jacket and blue jeans at a pop concert? Absolutely not. But she doesn’t care, this stunt will catch the internet’s attention, and that’s what they need.

As Liam approaches the microphone, she moves further backwards on the stage and sits at her piano, angled so that she can see his side profile. Once settled, she signals to her band who she’s already briefed on this master plan of hers, and waits for their signal back to confirm that they’re ready.

Once her drummer nods, she begins to play the melody.

#  **[San Francisco CA, November 3 rd – Live at United Centre. Song - Glad You’re Gone]**

They've made some quite significant changes to the song's arrangement over the past six weeks, the most significant difference being that the song only begins with the piano playing for the first two verses and first chorus.

By this point, playing the keys are like driving on autopilot, but she still concentrates, making sure to not mess this up for him.

Liam sings perfectly on cue.

_Listen closely my dear_

_I can’t forget this year_

_You’ve used me, abused me and left me all alone here_

_Listen closely_

_Listen closely_

She can tell he’s nervous from his voice, it’s not overtly apparent to anyone other than her, but his breath hitches just a second later than it usually does.

_You’ve made it all too clear_

_There’s only one thing I fear_

_How will you be able to handle the tears?_

Fallon smiles, _that_ was perfect, he must be relaxing into the song now, captivating the audience in the same way he does her. Her hands move over the keys faster as the tune alters.

_So walk away from our life_

_Can’t look me in the eyes_

_Illusion of paradise_

_We’re paying the wrong price_

_I wish we never tried_

_It’s hurt both of our prides_

_Now I’ve lost a friend_

_It’s a tragic way to end_

The audience quickly catches on to the song's vibe, getting out their phones, turning on their flash and swaying to the tempo.

_But I couldn’t keep up the lie_

_It was killing us inside_

_We’re free from this hell_

_I’ll always wish you well_

_I wish this wasn’t true_

_But I know you feel it too_

_I’m glad you’re gone_

_I’m glad you’re gone_

_What scares me the most_

_Is that we came so close_

_A beautiful life wrapped up in a lie so_

_Listen closely_

_Listen closely_

_How are we going to explain this?_

_When we can’t even figure out what’s a-miss?_

_It would be easier if you fell in love with someone else_

_So walk away from our life_

_Can’t look me in the eyes_

_Illusion of paradise_

_We’re paying the wrong price_

_I wish we never tried_

_It’s hurt both of our prides_

_Now I’ve lost a friend_

_It’s a tragic way to end_

The band kicks in, the drum beats falling, Liam strums on his guitar and Fallon’s fingers fall hard on the keys; it all happens in such faultless simultaneous timing that Fallon _feels_ it in her body, especially as she hears the audience cheer loudly.

She dares to glance up from the piano, and they must have the same thought at the same time because their eyes meet, and they silently agree; choosing the drop for that exact moment was perfect _._

Liam grabs the stand, bringing the microphone closer, and belts out the chorus, the timbre of his voice transforming from soft to powerful and husky.

_But I couldn’t keep up the lie_

_It was killing us inside_

_We’re free from this hell_

_I’ll always wish you well_

_I wish this wasn’t true_

_But I know you feel it too_

_I’m glad you’re gone_

_I’m glad you’re gone_

Then he’s looking at her again, their eyes meeting, and it’s like they’re back in the studio, completely alone. The whole audience, the band, the stage, everything melts away.

_It’s okay_

_I’d rather not fake it_

_This just can’t be what we want it to be_

_Listen to me this one time, listen to me_

_I couldn’t keep up the lie_

_It was killing us inside_

_We’re free from this hell_

_I’ll always wish you well_

_I wish this wasn’t true_

_But I know you feel it too_

_I’m glad you’re gone_

_I’m glad you’re gone_

Everything comes back, fast and hard, vibrant and loud, as the audience explodes. Fallon feels like she’s drunk, but hasn’t had a sip of alcohol. Yet, her inhibitions are left behind all the same, her mind’s desires taking over her better judgement.

Without really thinking about it, and just allowing her emotions to control her actions, Fallon stands violently from the piano and runs into his open arms. 

Liam envelopes her immediately, holding her tight and she can’t help but breathe him in as they sway in front of the crowd.

“That was insane,” he laughs into her ear, and she can’t help but squeeze him tightly, tucking her face into the crevice of his neck.

Fallon’s smiling so hard her cheeks hurt when they release each other, and she shouts, struggling to be heard over the crowd, “You were amazing.”

“Thank you, _you_ are amazing,” Liam responds before laughing. The sound of it is infectious, and Fallon can’t help but join in, giggling along with him, euphorically.

They go in for a high 5, but when their hands come together, their palms stay touching, their fingers intertwining.

“We did it,” she states proudly, her heart swelling as she looks at him, tears in her eyes.

“We did it,” he repeats in confirmation.

Six weeks of hard work and one incredibly risky decision to get Liam on stage during her set all seems worth it in that moment.

It turns out that they do make a pretty good team afterall.

They’re interrupted by time, her crew shouting through her earpiece that she needs to start the next song, and it breaks their moment. Fallon doesn’t have to say a word for Liam to understand.

He squeezes her hand tightly, reassuringly, before letting go, and walking off the stage, leaving her to finish off the night alone.

~

“To hard work paying off,” Sam offers as a toast.

Fallon and Liam clink their champagne glasses together with Sam’s in the hotel’s bar, repeating the proverb back. They couldn’t resist the opportunity to celebrate after the show, Liam’s performance had immediately gone viral all over social media, bringing him well-deserved attention.

“So you had the whole thing planned?” Liam asks, looking between Sam and Fallon respectively.

Fallon just smiles sheepishly.

Yes, the plan had formed in her mind about a week before asking Liam to come with her to San Francisco, knowing that if she had asked him to perform the song, he might have refused. So, she knew it had to be a surprise and that she would have to tempt him with the promise of a taste of danger like he’d done with her the first night they’d met. It worked _perfectly._

“Yes, I hardly got a wink of beauty sleep last week after Fallon told me her grand master plan,” Sam complains. “But, I have to admit… It was clearly worth it.”

Sam holds up his phone so that the pair can see the video of their earlier performance playing. Fallon’s eyes land on the viewer number, watching it jump up another 100,000 in a matter of seconds.

“Can I see that?” Fallon asks, taking the phone from Sam’s hands. The video plays at the point of Liam singing the last chorus of the song, the angle showing his full body and she muses that it’s strange seeing him from this perspective. It’s undeniable though, he’s a natural. It’s unsurprising really, considering performing is in his blood, but just one look at this video tells her that he’s about to go far.

The moment itself is all a bit of a blur in her mind, still feeling slightly surreal. Even as she had gotten ready to celebrate tonight, she’d done so in a sort of daze; without this video as evidence, she might believe it was all a dream.

Fallon watches the screen intently and notices that Liam had turned towards her immediately as the song had ended. She sees herself come into the frame, watching how she threw her arms around his neck. _That_ moment she can remember vividly, and it’s written on their features just how insanely happy and proud they both were.

As she watches herself and Liam part from their hug, she notices the intense look in one another’s eyes, and even though that’s _her_ in the video, the moment feels too intimate to watch. Looking for a distraction, she scrolls down to read the comments.

 **_[22:30] DSmith commented:_ ** _Amazing song!_

 **_[22:31] fcarringonfan101 commented:_ ** _He’s hot._

 **_[22:32] PLDrake commented:_ ** _Who is he?! I can’t stop listening to this._

She smiles, a feeling of immense pride overwhelming her. Liam has earnt this.

 **_[22:33] SugarGirl187743 commented:_ ** _They’re so cute, do you think they’re a couple?_

It feels like acid is released into her veins, and she passes the phone back to Sam so fast she acts like it’s burned her.

The two men frown at her, but she smiles sweetly, distracting them from commenting on her strange action.

“Like I said,” she begins, looking Liam in the eyes, “you were amazing up there. You deserve this, and we’re only at the beginning of a very long music career for you.”

“Another thing to toast to!” Sam announces.

Fallon lets out a laugh as they raise their champagne glasses again before draining them of their contents.

“Well, if we’re going to continue toasting like this we’re going to need another bottle,” Liam comments, assessing the one currently empty in the middle of the table in the ice bucket, “I’ll get us another.”

“Thanks,” she smiles at him as he stands from their table and makes his way over to the bar, Fallon’s eyes following him as he saunters away.

“I like him,” Sam admits once Liam’s out of earshot.

“Everyone does,” she returns, pulling her attention away as she watches Liam lean forwards to speak to the bartender, “he’s a very likeable person.”

Sam sighs, “No, I mean I _like_ how he treats you. But, you know, I do obviously like him, I mean,” he zooms into a photo on his phone from the performance, focusing in on his arms, “look at those biceps.”

Her heart thumps hard in her chest, images of that dream, her clutching onto those biceps flash into her mind.

She swallows, forcing the thoughts away.

“Okay, why don’t you two just go get your own room? Huh?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

Sam scoffs, still staring at his phone, “Yeah right. He has eyes for you, and you only. Trust me.”

Her eyes widen, “You think?”

Fallon immediately regrets saying that so quickly with so much obvious hope in her voice.

Sam’s eyes dart up, clearly noticing it himself.

He leans forward, keeping his voice low, “Fallon, I know that when you first met this guy I had my doubts about him, but…” He gulps, like he’s afraid of being honest with her, “But, I have never seen you like this before, you’re so happy and, I honestly think you need to _stop_ and _think_ about what’s going on here.”

He skirts around the issue a little, but she reads between the lines and understands what he’s saying and it panics her to her very core. That kind of _stopping_ and _thinking_ was precisely what she has been trying to avoid for the past six weeks.

Fallon shakes her head, and is about to say something back, maybe defend herself, she isn’t sure, but a movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention. A flash of red over by the bar, far too close to where she knows Liam is standing, followed by female laughter, loud, obnoxious and shrill, and her head immediately turns towards the sound.

The sight she sees makes her stomach churn.

There’s a short blonde, attractive, wearing a low cut, short sequin dress with obscenely high stilettos standing at Liam’s side, her hand on his shoulder, caressing it. She watches as Liam says something Fallon can’t hear, and the blonde’s face distorts into laughter again as she throws her head back.

Her instincts take over completely, and Fallon’s over at the bar before she even thinks twice about what she’s doing.

Her sudden and intruding presence alone intimidates the woman into removing her hand from his arm once she notices Fallon standing there, scowling. Liam glances back, his brows furrowing, his head tilting to the side subtly, surprised to see her too.

“Sweetie, I think you’ll have better luck with the lonely, rich, newly divorced gentleman at the end of the bar. He’ll probably pay for all the extras,” Fallon says to the woman, smiling fallaciously as she points towards the man in question.

The blonde’s jaw drops, “I’m not a prostitute.”

Fallon grimaces, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I just…” She looks her up and down, her eyes full of judgement, “assumed.”

The woman scoffs before turning to leave, clearly offended.

Liam remains silent, his eyes wide.

“You’re welcome,” Fallon comments smugly, leaning against the bar, waiting with Liam for the bartender to come back with the bottle of champagne just in case any other attractive blondes decide to attempt to flirt with him.

“Excuse me?” Liam asks, sounding offended.

“You’re going to have to get used to that, you know, people recognising you out in public and harassing you.”

Liam’s brows draw together, “She wasn’t harassing me, in fact, I don’t think she had any idea who I am. She was just polite.”

Fallon rolls her eyes at him, “Look, Liam, I’ve been in this game longer than you have, remember? That’s what they’ll do, you have to be careful, or one minute you’ll be meeting some random girl in a bar who _claims_ she doesn’t know who you are but, in reality, she probably has a shrine to you in her bedroom. Then, the next thing you know you’ll find yourself drugged, and waking up robbed and handcuffed naked to a bed with no memory and only a leaked sex tape to prove anything ever happened.”

He nods slowly, his eyebrows still creased, “Right, so you’re just looking out for me?”

Fallon’s eyes widen slightly, looking away, “…Yeah.”

She hates how her voice is always pitched an octave higher when she’s lying. She’s pretty sure he can tell.

“Really?” He asks, and she can tell with the tone in his voice that Liam doesn’t believe her one bit, “even though you met _me_ in a bar and within half an hour you ran away from your security with me to the middle of nowhere?”

_Damn it._

He’s got her there with an undeniable truth.

“Well-” she shrugs, lost for words.

“-So that’s not it,” he interrupts, his gaze intensifying as he analyses her, the corner of his mouth turning up into a fraction of a smile like he’s just made a revelation, and she feels like a deer caught in headlights, “you were jealous.”

Her breath is caught in her throat, and she looks down briefly, shaking her head.

“No, I-” 

The way that he looks at her makes her feel completely exposed.

He leans closer to her, invading her space, and when she dares to look back into his eyes, she completely forgets how to breathe.

“Fallon, do you have a problem with people flirting with me because you have feelings for me?”

_Yes._

“I-” she stammers, the air feeling far too thin.

They just stand there as she looks at him, her eyes wide like she’s paralyzed.

Maybe she just needs to say it, admit it to both herself and him, right now.

_Get it out._

_Tell him the truth._

_Tell him how you feel._

_Tell him that you get butterflies every time you see him smile, or hear him laugh._

_Tell him that despite knowing him for only six weeks, you’ve opened yourself up to him so much that he knows you better than literally any other person on this planet._

They can deal with the fallout later.

Okay, she’s going to do it.

She takes a deep breath, and opens her mouth.

“Liam, I-”

And then the unthinkable happens.

“Surprise!”

Her blood runs cold.

Fallon turns at the familiar voice and looks up to see her fiancé standing directly behind her, a giant grin on his face and her jaw drops.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, her tone accusatory.

Culhane looks taken back for a second, “Now is that any way to greet your fiancé?” he asks before placing his hands either side of her head and leans down, pressing his lips against hers.

She freezes, feeling uncomfortable in front of Liam, hardly returning the kiss.

It’s not lost on her that this is the first time she’s seen Culhane in person for six weeks and she should definitely be more excited to see him than this.

“I told you that I’d surprise you,” he says as he pulls back, frowning at her lack of enthusiasm.

“Yeah, you surprised me all right,” she returns, still feeling breathless. 

He looks her directly in the eyes, and she feels 2 inches tall under his judgemental gaze.

“Well, you surprised me too with that stunt you pulled tonight,” he says before looking straight past her and addressing Liam, “you must be the man of the hour.”

_Oh no._

The gravity of the situation only truly begins to sink in now that she actually sees the two of them standing in front of her.

It was like beforehand, she had somehow imagined that she has two lives, the one with Culhane and this new one with Liam, and they were both on two separate planes of existence.

But no, they are both very real, and very much _here,_ right now.

Her head’s swimming, and it’s not because of the alcohol.

“Apparently,” Liam responds, his voice taut.

Culhane looks back down at Fallon to address her, “So that was the song you said you’ve been producing then? Not bad, baby. I must have taught you well after all.”

His words sting, and she knows that is his intention. He’s belittling her, ensuring she remembers that without him, she wouldn’t have what she has now. He believes wholeheartedly that she _owes_ him for everything he’s done.

It’s a trap, one she falls for, every time.

Fallon’s just about to open her mouth, say the words he wants to hear before Liam interrupts.

“Really? It doesn’t sound a thing like anything you’ve ever published,” Liam says, and Fallon has to suppress a smile from forming on her face. Apparently, Michael wasn’t subtle enough for Liam not to notice his mind games.

Culhane’s attention draws back to the singer-songwriter, “So you’ve heard everything I’ve published? You must be a fan.”

“Of course," Liam responds, confidence etched into his voice, “I’m a huge fan of Fallon.”

Culhane barks out a sharp laugh.

This was very quickly turning into a pissing contest, and Fallon silently prays for the ground to simply swallow her up.

“I taught her everything she knows in that studio,” Culhane explains, and _god_ Fallon wants to smack that smugness right off of his face.

Liam nods simply, “Are you looking for me to thank you for that or something?”

Culhane’s face drops, scowling at Liam.

Fallon’s prayers are answered when they’re distracted by the barman returning with the champagne bottle, all of them turning their heads towards the motion.

“You know what?” Liam says, gesturing with his head towards the bottle now resting on the bar, “why don’t you two love birds take this, I’m tired anyway, I’m just going to call it a night.”

“Oh, thanks, man,” Culhane responds, faking his politeness, “you have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” Liam responds, looking directly at Fallon, his expression totally guarded. His eyes though, they speak volumes. There’s so much unspoken between them right now, and it’s hurting them both, she can feel it.

All Fallon can do is get out a weak, “Goodnight,” as she watches him turn and leave, taking the stairs and disappearing out of sight.

Her heart tells her to follow him. Her head tells her that she can’t. Unfortunately, Fallon has _always_ ruled with her head, so she stays put.

“Alright, I say we take his advice.” Culhane grabs the champagne bottle, and puts his hand on the small of Fallon’s back, leading them towards the elevator.

Like a mindless zombie, she allows herself to be led by him until her brain finally catches up with itself and she halts just as the elevator doors open.

“Oh wait,” she says, “Sam has my phone, I’ll just be a second.”

She throws him the key card to her room that she has stored in her pocket and escapes, leaving him to get into the elevator alone.

There’s no hesitation in her stride when she practically runs back, seeing Sam still sitting at their table, his jaw slack.

“Oh my god,” he whispers to her as she slides back into her seat.

Fallon glances behind her to make sure Culhane is out of sight, and once she is satisfied he’s gone she turns back to Sam and hisses, “Did you know he was going to turn up here?”

Sam’s brown eyes widen, and he flashes his palms up to her in defence, “No, I had no idea, I swear. What happened between you and Liam at the bar? It looked intense.”

Fallon hangs her head, feeling deflated, “I don’t know,” she whines, “I think I was about to tell him how I feel and then Culhane turned up and now I’m panicking.”

Her hearts racing, her mind still foggy, her palms sweating and she fans herself with her hands, trying to cool down a little.

“Ok, just chill. Fallon, breathe,” Sam demonstrates taking in a deep breath, encouraging Fallon to mimic him, breathing in and out, and in and out. It helps her nerves to calm, a little. “You don’t need to make any decisions right now. Just go to bed, and you can figure this out in the morning, okay? When you’re _sober_.”

She nods her head, “Alright, okay, that’s a good idea.”

“Everything will be _fine,_ but you better go before he gets suspicious.”

“Yeah,” Fallon replies, “alright, see you in the morning,” She stands, remembering to grab her phone from the table and makes her way to her hotel room.

~

“Oh, Jesus!” Fallon’s hands fly up to cover her eyes the second she walks into the bedroom of the hotel suite.

“What?” She can hear the humor in Culhane’s voice, “Uh baby, it’s okay, you can look.”

She moves her fingers, peeking out, “Why are you naked?” She hisses as she glances at his completely bare body laid out over the bed where he’s holding the champagne bottle precariously in front of his crotch.

“We haven’t seen each other for six weeks, Fallon.”

_Oh no._

_No, no. no, that is not happening._

“So you just assumed I wanted sex?!” She lets her hand drop from her eyes and storms into the bathroom, picking up a robe and throws it on top of his body as she says, “That was the wrong assumption, Michael. Plus, I’m on my period anyway.”

It’s a lie, but she adds it for extra self-protection. Culhane has always been instantly grossed out by periods, and _never_ touches her.

He looks visibly upset, his lips pouting as he takes the robe and begins to wrap it around his frame, “Well, that’s never stopped you from pleasing your man before.”

She sighs, realising she should have expected that answer.

“I’m _tired,_ Michael. It’s been a long day, I literally just finished a show. You have a hand, feel free to use the bathroom.”

“Oh thanks,” he says with sarcasm, “Like the past six weeks, I suppose.”

“Oh, and whose fault is that?” She bites back.

He looks at her, his gaze intense, “Fallon you could have come back to LA straight after your show in Atlanta, but you didn’t.”

She scoffs, “You told me to stay in Atlanta because, and I quote, ‘I’m a distraction’.”

Culhane stands from the bed, walking over to her slowly, “Of _course_ you’re a distraction, look at you,” he smirks, glancing over her body.

Her arms cross over her chest as if she is trying to defend herself against him. She shakes her head, unwilling to let him charm her out of holding him accountable for her feelings, not this time, at least.

Fallon lifts her chin in defiance and dares to ask the question she’s really wanted the answer to since he turned up here out of the blue, “Why are you really here?”

“I told you it was to surprise you,” he says nonchalantly.

“Right. So you didn’t just rush onto a plane two hours ago when you saw that video of Liam singing at the concert?”

His eyes widen.

_Got you._

He shrugs, “So what if I did?”

“Michael, I am not your territory for you to come and piss all over and claim when it suits you. And that thing downstairs?” She continues, “the way you spoke to Liam was completely uncalled for.”

“Okay! Alright, I’m sorry,” he looks down at her, frowning, changing his tactic, “but you have to understand, all you told me was that you were helping a musician on a record and the next thing I know you’re introducing some random guy on stage and then throwing your arms around him for everyone to see. I felt pretty blindsided.”

“I never once lied to you about helping Liam,” she explains, attempting to defend herself, “he’s just my friend, but…”

Her body feels heavy, guilt pushing down on her shoulders. Technically, she had downplayed the significance of Liam in her life to him, so really, this _is_ her fault.

“I get that it maybe didn’t seem that way,” she looks up at him, “But…”

“-But,” he interrupts, his voice soft, knowing he’s managed to win her over, “It’s not like I gave you the opportunity to tell me. I know I haven’t been around much lately, but I’m here now, so let’s talk.”

Sam’s advice echoes around her mind, talking right now when she isn’t sober is not a good idea.

She shakes her head, “No. I don’t want to talk, not right now. I just want to go to bed, I’m _exhausted._ ”

“Okay, fine, then we’ll do that.”

Culhane finally steps away from her, moving to busy himself with sorting out the sheets on the bed, and the space between them allows her to at least _breathe_ a little.

Once she busies herself getting ready for bed and eventually lies against the pillows, she finds that despite her body being exhausted, her mind is whirring, her thoughts fragmented, like pieces of a broken vase that she just can’t put back together.

She sighs as she stares up at the ceiling, feeling like she’s stuck in limbo, and can’t see any way out of it.

~

Eventually, Fallon had managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep, even though it was only for a few hours and is still exhausted when she wakes early.

The burden of the choices she has to make still weighs down on her, and she feels like she’s drowning.

Yet, she figures that at least today is a new day and it should help to form a new perspective. There’s a way she can figure this out, a way to keep both of them in her life… She just has to convince them both of that.

Talking to Liam is the first thing she needs to do.

Thankfully, Culhane is the kind of person to sleep in until noon, so she gets up, quietly gets showered and dressed before heading downstairs for breakfast, hoping she’ll catch her friend there. However, the sight she sees when the elevator doors open into the lobby completely derails those plans.

Liam’s standing at the reception desk, his bags at his side, and she watches horrified as he hands over his key card to the lady behind the desk.

_No, no, no. He isn’t supposed to leave. He’s supposed to stay for the whole weekend-_

Fallon panics, her mind sending off signals that no longer have any sensical pattern or connection.

“Liam?” She catches his attention as she approaches him, “what are you doing?”

“I’m going home, Fallon.”

He picks up his bags and starts to walk towards the glass doors that lead out into the street.

He’s wearing a mask, in the metaphorical sense. Fallon’s seen this before, only once; the first night they met at the airport café just after they’d finished their song. He’s distancing from her to protect himself, and she can’t blame him, but she really does hate it.

“So, what? You were just going to leave without even saying goodbye?” She accuses as she follows him, hot on his trail as he walks out into the street.

“No,” he stops on the sidewalk and faces her, “I was waiting for you, I knew you’d have to come down to get your caffeine fix eventually.”

It touches her to know that _he_ knows her well enough to figure that out. It’s because he’s kind, and he’s caring and gentle and everything that she isn’t. That’s precisely why they can’t be together. Not in _that_ way, at least.

It crosses her mind that she isn’t worthy of his generosity, but her selfish nature gets the better of her anyway.

“Liam, _please_. Stay.”

His jaw is tense, his tone much harsher than usual when he says, “I can’t, you _know_ I can’t, not whilst _he’s_ here.”

She understands, she truly does. After that little game of masculinity Culhane played last night at the bar with Liam, it’s impossible to expect the two of them to get along. It’s obvious that Culhane feels threatened, and that isn’t just going to go away. But still, against all odds, she has to at least try to convince him.

“I’ve told Culhane that you and I are just friends,” she explains, desperately.

“That’s the problem, Fallon,” he says, frustrated, “I don’t want to be just your friend, and quite honestly, I’m pretty sure that you want to be more than that too.”

Her brain stops working as soon as she hears that he wants to be more than just friends because that’s the first time she’s ever even heard him suggest he likes her as anything more. Of course, she was suspicious of that fact, _hopeful_ , even, but the second Fallon had set her boundaries Liam had stuck to them, and she really had started to believe that maybe Liam just had chemistry with _everyone_ he meets. Like that girl at the bar last night, she’d clearly fell for his charms as hard as Fallon has. But his confession means that she’s right, that feelings are being reciprocated and _god_ her head is spinning so fast that she feels like she’s going to faint.

“What were you going to tell me last night at the bar before he turned up?” Liam asks.

She shakes her head, “I don’t know what I was going to say.”

It’s the truth, she has no idea. All she knows is that she is certain of the way he makes her feel and she wants to chase it down, pounce on it and make it hers so that it stays forever. 

“Right, sure,” he looks up and laughs, shaking his head in disbelief, “I think you need to figure out what it is that you want because I can’t do this. I will fight for you until you sign your name on that dotted line, but after that, I can’t stay in your life.”

Her heart squeezes painfully.

The thought of losing Liam terrifies her to her very core.

“Liam, I can make my own decisions about who is or isn’t in my life.”

He scoffs, “You’re getting _married_ , Fallon. That means _compromise_. It means not going behind his back and spending so much time with another man that-”

“That _what?”_

Fallon swears that if he says those three words that she’ll be a goner. She’ll risk this ‘perfect’ life that she’s so intricately built for herself in the knowledge that he doesn’t just have her on his mind, but in his heart too.

But he doesn't, and her heart sinks when she hears the next words tumble out of his mouth.

“That _cares_ about you as much as I do. It wouldn’t be fair to Culhane, and it definitely wouldn’t be fair to me.”

She sees his mask slip for a moment, and there’s nothing but pain in his eyes. Pain _she’s_ caused, and she hates herself for it.

And then he’s walking towards a taxi cab, putting his luggage in the back and all she can do is plead with him.

“Liam _please_ don’t do this.”

She isn’t sure what _this_ is. Leave? Make her choose? Force her to actually figure all of this out?

Probably all of the above.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he says, his voice low, his jaw clenched, “good luck with the show tonight.”

The door slams shut and she’s left standing on the concrete, watching him leave, feeling her heart breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.
> 
> See you next week.
> 
> I think you'll like the next chapter...more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallon has a tough choice to make.

Fallon hardly remembers the next two days of her life.

The second she re-enters the hotel after Liam left her on the pavement, she goes straight to the bar, orders a champagne breakfast and doesn't stop drinking. Well, she does, but only to pass out that night after the disaster of her last show, and on Sunday night on her couch back in Atlanta.

She vaguely recalls approaching Sam at breakfast just after Liam had left and begged him to do two things for her; keep her phone so that she doesn’t call him, and not let her out of his sight.

The look of worry on Sam's face would have bothered her if she didn’t then proceed to drink herself numb.

Thankfully, her reaction to Liam leaving doesn't raise too much suspicion with Culhane considering it isn't unusual behaviour for her.

Fallon has gone on many drinking benders before, always due to some intense emotional pain that she can’t handle and just wants to bury and forget. She’d done it when Steven had died. Then when Adam was made COO of Carrington Atlantic, when Blake had married Cristal, and most recently was when she had left the manor in shame and promised to never return.

There’s a vague memory in her mind of Sam explaining to Culhane that she is just upset about the tour ending, that she is unsure about where she will go from here, that she feels lost. He seems to buy it. Probably because there is some truth to the lie.

She does feel lost.

She feels like she’s had her life planned out in perfect intricate detail and then she stupidly went to the old courthouse bar and met this guy who shook everything up like a snow globe. Fallon muses that she feels like one of those trapped little white specks, floating around with no control, wanting to settle, but _just_ before she does something else happens and she’s shaken up again.

To make it worse, Culhane doesn't even argue with her, he actually shows sympathy and takes care of her. He makes sure to keep her out of the public’s eye, letting her drink herself into a stupor in her hotel room with Sam for company, then sits up all night to keep an eye on her.

That only makes her feel all the more torn, and guilty as hell.

~

The sound of an alarm blaring pulls her violently from her dreamless abyss.

_Pain, immediate pain._

Fallon groans, the shrill noise of the alarm cutting through her blissful, painless nothingness of sleep and yanking her into reality. And in reality, her head is pounding, her throat is dry, and her body aches so badly that she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been hit by a car and couldn’t remember it.

“Morning!”

“Sam?” She asks, sitting up slowly, wincing, massaging her temples to give her a fraction of relief.

The familiar figure of her assistant approaches her, a glass of water in one hand, white pain killers in the other. She takes them gratefully, draining the glass of its contents in one go.

“Thank you,” she says, passing the now empty glass back to him as she looks around herself, remembering that she’d fallen to sleep on her couch last night, “I owe you one.”

“One?” Sam laughs, “Just one? Oh, Fallon, you owe me a _lot_ more than that. Can you remember nothing from the past few days and everything I’ve done for you? In fact, here’s a whole list of the things you owe me. If you look, I think you’ll agree it is fair.”

He presses a piece of paper into her hand, demanding her to read. It takes her eyes a second to adjust to the text, everything slightly blurry, “This is...” She glances over the list, all incredibly materialistic items – _which is_ _very Sam -_ her initial reaction being ‘hell no’. Except, Sam is right. It hits her just how much this man has done for her over the past few days, including potentially keeping her alive and not succumbing to alcohol poisoning.

Fallon sighs, “Alright, that’s pretty fair actually,” she says as she hands the list back to him, giving him permission to go wild with his corporate credit card.

“I thought you would agree,” he responds with a smug smile, “by the way, you should go shower if you want to go to the studio today. Oh, but use the guest room, Culhane’s still asleep in yours. I left some clothes out for you.”

_Yeah, he definitely deserves everything on that list._

Despite her banging headache, she smiles up at him, “You’re an angel sent from the heavens, Sammy.”

“I know,” he responds as he pulls her up from the couch, “can I add a Lamborghini to that list?”

“Don’t push it,” she throws back before crawling up the stairs.

Feeling anxious to see Liam after her weekend of hell, she rushes her morning routine, finally feeling a little more human once she showers and changes into the leather pants and sheer blouse Sam leaves out for her.

Fallon doesn’t bother to wake Culhane, knowing he’ll only ask questions about where she’s going, and she doesn't need that conversation right now.

No, right now, she needs to fix things with her friend. Her relationship can wait. 

~

In hindsight, Fallon probably should have expected the paparazzi to be waiting for her outside the studio. After Friday night’s show and the disaster of Saturdays, she had managed to stir up plenty of media attention with her drama.

She sighs as she pulls up in her usual spot, noticing them lingering with their cameras poised, ready, but she keeps her expression stable – a sign of weakness is precisely what they’re looking for.

_Stay calm, Fallon. You’ve handled this before._

They swarm her the second she steps out of the car, flashes of cameras blinding her iris’, microphones being pushed into her face, questions being thrown her way in such a jumble of noise that she can hardly make out what any of them are even saying to her.

_“Fallon, what happened at your last show?”_

_“Is your dancer okay?”_

_“Who was the man you brought on stage?”_

_“Why wasn’t he there Saturday night?”_

“Alright, you know I’m not going to say anything so how about you just give me some personal space and let me get to work?” She demands, but her voice is completely lost in the crowd as they continue their assault on her.

She figures it was probably a fruitless attempt to expect them to be kind to her anyway. All they care about is getting some scandalous feature at any cost.

She knows she needs to change tactics so she attempts to just slide her way through the flock of people with her head held high, hoping they’ll part enough to let her walk the short distance to the doors of the studio. Instead, they get closer, surrounding her as if to trap her.

Her heart rate shoots up instantly.

_This is becoming dangerous._

It's ironically poetic how there is a crowd of people ambushing her, demanding, asking questions she doesn't know the answers to. After all, it’s what she is experiencing in her own mind, an inescapable horde keeping her hostage.

It only takes one look at the crowd to know there’s no escape. There isn’t an inch between the bodies, and they’re only pressing closer, and closer.

Fallon's on the brink of giving up and retreating back into her car so that she can call her security to clear the area, but then she hears a shout, hears _him,_ clear as a bell.

“Alright, move, get out of the way! Let her through!”

The crowd parts enough for Liam to make his way to her, holding his hand out for her to take. Fallon doesn’t think twice about it, her smaller hand sliding effortlessly into his, and he leads them through the invading paparazzi, elbowing people out of the way as they go. She holds on tight, intertwining their fingers, holding onto him for dear life.

They eventually safely make it to the steps leading up to the door, thinking that perhaps the worst is over, when one of paparazzi shouts out towards Liam, “Hey, aren’t you the one she brought up on stage?”

If they thought the crowd were unrelenting before, this is a whole other level.

They watch in horror as it practically becomes a stampede of people clambering over each other to get to them.

They swiftly give each other a knowing look, realising that this could turn very ugly very quickly. Liam places a hand on the small of her back, “Go,” he insists, pushing her hastily up the steps.

Her legs work quickly to pull them towards the door, pushing it open the second she reaches it and they tumble into the foyer, Liam slamming it closed on the horde’s faces. Fallon hears the lock turn as she stressfully runs her fingers through her hair.

“You alright?” He asks, a little breathless as he checks her over.

She does the same, assesses him carefully, searching for any signs that they’d tousled even a single hair on his head.

“Yeah,” she gulps as she catches her breath, “you?”

He nods back.

“Hey, what’s going on out there?”

Fallon snaps her head around towards the reception, “Are you serious? You didn’t hear them?” She asks Danny who responds with a shrug, pointing to the headphones around his neck.

Liam sighs, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Liam says to the red-head, “just, no matter what you do, don’t let anyone in.”

Danny nods his head, “Alright, no problemo.”

Instantly, he puts his headphones back on, disappearing back into whatever world he was previously engrossed in.

“What am I actually paying him for?” Fallon asks, still feeling shaken up inside, made worse when they hear a loud thump at the door, causing them both to flinch as they imagine the gaggle of paparazzi currently trying to pry their way in. At the very least, they probably have their ears pressed to the metal so that they can catch a snippet of their conversation.

They seem to have the same thought as they both move towards the studio door.

Fallon makes her way over first, holding the door open for Liam as he thanks her and walks through. He goes to sit on the couch, in what she’s come to associate as _his_ spot.

“I should have called my security, I didn’t _think,_ ” she groans out. Although, in her defence, she did have other more pressing matters on her mind.

“Well, look on the bright side, you made it here in one piece,” Liam responds, sitting back.

Her cheeks begin to feel hotter by the second as she recalls the way he’d barged through the crowd, practically rescuing her.

“Yeah,” she accepts, “thanks to you.”

He smiles, only for a few seconds, but it’s a sight for her sore eyes, “I can just see the headlines now, John Lowden’s son to the rescue.”

She laughs, shaking her head at his self-deprecating joke, “They’ll know _your_ name soon, I promise.”

“Hm, maybe.”

An awkward silence falls on them as she feels a much more severe conversation between them looming, and her eyes fall on the carpet as she crosses her arms over her chest.

It occurs to her that she’s just hovering in the middle of the room and hasn’t even bothered to take off her jacket yet. She’s just standing, unsure of how to act around him since their last heated conversation in San Francisco.

“So, how did your last show go?” Liam asks, not really giving her full eye contact, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

She chews her lip before settling on a response, “Pretty awful actually, my mind was a little distracted. At one point I completely forgot the lines to one of my most popular songs, and then I accidentally hit one of my dancers in the mouth so now I have to pay for her have a complete dental rework. Plus, it’s become a meme, so, that’s fun.”

His mouth twitches subtly, and she can instantly tell that he wants to laugh – honestly, she could laugh at the whole situation herself. Saying it out loud makes her realise how ridiculous it really all is.

Ridiculous, but incredibly annoying, and it’s all his fault, so he has _no_ right to laugh.

“That’s really unfortunate,” he responds, humour evident in his voice.

Fallon simply stares at him, unamused, “It’s not funny, Liam.”

“I didn’t say it was,” he answers, still visibly attempting to keep a smile off of his face.

“She lost two teeth.”

He snorts, covering his face as he involuntarily lets out a snicker, a genuine reaction he clearly can’t resist despite trying to keep it together.

“Liam!” She exasperates, “you know this is your fault, right? It would never have happened if you didn’t leave; honestly, I should give the dental bill to you.”

His hand falls from his face as he recomposes himself, “Alright,” he says, “yeah, I’m sorry.” 

He looks her in the eyes now, and she can see him sober up, emotion returning to the blue as he nods, “I shouldn’t have left like that. Listen, can we just sit and talk, please?”

She hesitates in the middle of the room, unsure of if he should sit in such close proximity to him.

“Come on,” he motions with his head for her to join him and produces a white paper bag from behind the couch, “I even came with a peace offering.”

“My coffee better be behind that couch too,” she says as she finally moves, taking off her jacket and sitting at the opposite end of the couch, her feet tucked under her, facing him.

He smiles and leans over the arm to produce the cup to her, which she takes gladly. Fallon figures that he can’t be _too_ angry with her if he brought coffee.

That thought helps her to relax a little, settling into the familiarity and rhythm that they’d established over the past few weeks.

“And what’s in there?” She eyes up the white paper bag in his other hand, which he laughs softly at and displays it on his palm.

“Have a look.”

The awkwardness dissolves with his playfulness, a side to him she loves to see.

“Why, thank you.” She grabs the bag and peers inside to find 5 mini chocolate croissants, her mouth watering instantly as the sweet smell hits her senses.

“God, I _love_ chocolate.”

Her stomach rumbles, and it occurs to her that she has no idea when her last meal was.

“I know you do,” he says, softly, fondly.

Fallon takes one from the bag and instantly takes a bite, savouring the buttery taste on her tongue. It’s possible she audibly moans as she swallows it down.

“So, what did you want to say?” She asks, ready to take another bite.

“That I want to take back what I said to you.”

She tenses, feeling a squeeze in her heart.

Her breakfast is completely forgotten for the moment as her hands drop into her lap.

“Which part?” Fallon asks, the panic evident in her voice.

Liam takes a sip of his coffee before continuing, like he needs a moment to compose his sentence, “The part about me leaving if you get married. I won’t, I can’t.”

Her eyes close for a moment as she breathes out a sigh of relief.

It feels like a heavy weight shifting off of her shoulders, and she can finally begin trying to swim back to the surface. Fallon’s been so held down by the thought of losing Liam that instead of rationalising everything, it had only thrown her straight into the deep end without a life jacket. Liam just threw her a lifeline. 

“I know it’s only been a few weeks,” Liam continues, “but I don’t think I can live without you, Fallon. In whatever capacity you’ll have me in.”

Fallon feels precisely the same way, she _needs_ him in her life – she tries to say that, but her voice is lost. A lump forms in her throat, and it feels like it’s choking, causing her eyes to sting as salty tears push their way into them. She has to blink them back as they threaten to spill from her eyes.

Finally, she opens her mouth to speak, but Liam cuts her off.

“But that does mean you’re going to have to let me flirt with women at bars because it’s really not fair for you to be getting married and for me to remain single forever…”

“Could I just absorb all of this and process, please? Before you marry us both off,” she asks, her voice sharp.

The thought of Liam getting married feels like a punch to her gut.

He looks at her, his expression softening, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry. Of course, you need some time.”

She nods, already attempting to absorb everything when he stands, placing his hand firmly on her shoulder, his thumb faintly caressing her, “Have your breakfast, I’ll let you think.”

Then he’s gone, walking into the recording booth, busying himself whilst she’s left alone with her frenzied and fragment thoughts.

~

By the end of the day, she still isn’t any closer to truly understanding what she wants. All she knows is that she’s scared of making the wrong choice, either way.

She hopes that Liam promising to stay in her life isn’t going to persuade her that it’s the easy option of keeping two men that she cares about by her side.

It would be so simple to marry Culhane and keep Liam as her loyal friend, and maybe one day, if Culhane betrayed her in some way, she would reach out to Liam, and it would be like When Harry Met Sally. In twelve years they’ll declare their love for each other at a New Year’s Eve Party, and they’ll live happily ever after, knowing that she at least gave her relationship with Culhane a fair chance.

And in the meantime, she’d pine for Liam and everything that they could be.

Fallon thinks about that now as she stares into the recording booth through the glass, looking at Liam’s form as he sits cross-legged on the floor, strumming on his guitar. She watches as he sings, occasionally stopping to make notes on a notepad by his side. 

She can’t hear him. She could in just one press of a button, but she knows that would be intrusive and she gets the feeling that whatever he is doing is personal. So instead she just gazes at him, fondly, and it makes her heart feel like it’s going to explode. The effect he has on her is unprecedented, and it triggers a memory to materialise in her mind of a drunken conversation she’d had with Sam on Saturday night after the show as they’d sat on her hotel bed. 

_“I can’t lose him,” She admits, staring down as she swills the whisky around the glass in her hand._

_“Which one?”_

_She barks out a short, sharp laugh._

_“Exactly.”_

_“Okay, let’s try this. Tell me the first thing you think when I ask you: how do you feel about Culhane?”_

_She sighs, thinking that this is a stupid game, but at this point, she is desperate to try anything. “He’s powerful, smart, connected, he loves me.”_

_The loving her part is really important because she’s honestly sure there aren’t many people in the world capable of loving her, and she has no idea if Liam is up to that challenge._

_Fallon can’t just go throwing away a relationship on a whim that someone might be able to love her._

_Sam nods, taking that in._

_“And how do you feel about Liam?”_

_Her whole body tingles at just his name, and she grins, picturing his face when he laughs because of something she’s said, and it causes her heart to miss a beat._

_“I think he’s my soulmate,” she says boldly, then takes a sip of whisky, “if that kind of thing exists.”_

_Sam’s jaw goes slack, “Wow,” he breathes._

_“Yeah,” Fallon whispers before groaning in frustration, “but I’ve been with Michael for four years, and I’ve known Liam for literally six weeks. So how can I know for sure?”_

_Her friend offers her a sympathetic smile, “You have to listen to your heart, Fallon. I also think you need to properly talk to Liam.”_

_She knows, and god she wishes he was here right now._

_“Just help me get through to Monday, please.”_

_“I will,” his soft brown eyes look back at her, “I promise.”_

Liam looks up from his guitar, catching her staring and smirks. Her cheeks blush, embarrassed at being caught until he nods his head, gesturing for her to join him.

“What’s going on?” She asks as she enters the room.

“Come sit with me.”

Her eyes glance at the hard wooden floor, turning her nose up.

“On the floor?”

Liam nods, “Yeah, the acoustics are better in here.”

She relents, only for him, and gently settles only centimetres in from of him, placing her right palm on the floor to keep her upright.

“I wrote a new song that I’d like you to hear.”

Her eyebrows raise in surprise, “You wrote a song _today_?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, adjusting the guitar in his lap slightly before gazing up at her, “you ready?”

She nods, unsure of why she feels a little breathless, “Yeah, sure.”

His fingers begin to gently strum against the strings of his guitar.

_In a hidden corner_

_In the dead of night_

_It’s still and it’s dark_

_But there’s a light_

_Oh, there’s a light_

_There’s a glistening in your eyes_

_For every tear that falls_

_The stars are caught_

_And they reflect your thoughts_

_Oh, they reflect your thoughts_

_And I can see you and I know you do too_

_So either everyone’s lying about you_

_Or you’re hiding your truths_

_Oh._

_You’re hiding your truths_

_But if I write you down then you can be read forever_

_I can expose you_

_I can expose you_

_I can see your soul_

_They should see it too_

_And I will expose you_

_And I will expose you_

_So I will write you down then you can be read forever_

_And I can expose you_

_I can expose you_

_I can see your soul_

_They should see it too_

_I will expose you_

_I will expose you_

_It still feels like a strange dream_

_But they’re memories that I’m clinging to_

_I think someone’s going to take them_

_I don’t want to let the vision of your face go_

_Oh, I can’t let the vision of your face go_

_You claim you’re not lonely_

_And yet you’re scared of being alone_

_When was the last time you clicked with someone like this?_

_It hurts me to know you’re on your own_

_Oh, but you’re not actually on your own_

_And I can see you and I know you see you too_

_So either everyone hates you_

_But there’s no way that can be true_

_So,_

_Stop hiding your truths_

_So if I write you down then you can be read forever_

_I can expose you_

_I can expose you_

_I can see your soul_

_They should see it too_

_And I will expose you_

_And I will expose you_

_So I will write you down and then you can be read forever_

_And I can expose you_

_I can expose you_

_I can see your soul_

_They should see it too_

_I will expose you_

_I will expose you_

_Did you know that I read you that night with my eyes?_

_With my hands?_

_With my heart?_

_I think you read me too_

_What if we wrote each other down and we can be read forever?_

_I can expose us_

_I can expose you_

_I can see your soul_

_They should see it too_

_And I will expose us_

_And I will expose you_

_So I will write you down and then you can be read forever_

_And I can expose us_

_I can expose you_

_I can see your soul_

_They should see it too_

_I will expose you_

_I will expose you_

By the time his song ends, her heart is beating so fast and strong in her chest that she’s surprised she can even hear anything over the sound of the racing pulse in her ears.

Liam doesn’t have to confirm it for her heart to know the truth; that song is about her, about _them._

Her eyes travel over his face, settling on his lips and she wants to kiss him so badly that she’s surprised by the raw feeling of it.

That magnetic pull between them has tempted her so many times before, but every time she was able to resist.

Not this time.

Her mind is made up.

“So what did you think?” Liam asks, placing his guitar gently on the floor. He hasn’t looked her in the eyes yet, so he can’t gauge her reaction. She’s sure he wouldn’t be acting so blasé right now if he took one look at her predatory expression.

Fallon uses the hand she has positioned on the floor to push herself up so that she’s kneeling, and she leans forwards, placing her hands on his shoulders.

The contact takes him by surprise, and he looks up at her, his eyes wide with wonder at her proximity as she crowds him.

Fallon runs her fingers gently up his neck, settling just underneath his jaw so that she can tilt his head at the perfect angle.

“This is what I think,” she says as she leans down and captures his lips against her own.

Despite taking him by surprise, there’s no hesitancy from either one of them, in fact, it’s the complete opposite. It’s like an explosion of the sexual tension they’ve been harbouring for the past six weeks is all poured into this one passionate kiss.

Liam’s lips part, their tongues seeking each other, pressing together for a second, teasing before retreating, giving her just a taste. His hands are in her hair, his fingers scraping against her scalp, causing a delicious tingle to run down her spine.

She moans into his mouth and gets lost in him further.

It felt like the second her mouth had crashed against his the stars had aligned. That inner turmoil she has been experiencing for the past six weeks just disappears. It vanishes into thin air, replaced instead with every fibre of her being screaming at her that _this_ feels right.

Not only does it feel _right,_ it feels _good._

Screw Harry and Sally, they were idiots. They wasted twelve years dancing around each other when they could have been doing _this_.

Fallon badly craves more of him, to be so much closer. Their mouths pressing together is no longer giving her the satisfaction she desires. However, with the position they’re in on the floor, his legs still crossed and her on her knees, it’s impossible, and she knows they need to resolve this issue, immediately. That means breaking the kiss so that they can move.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out as she pulls back, and she sees a flash of pain cross his expression. He must think she will say she shouldn’t have done that, yet her apology's intentions are the exact opposite. A small laugh escapes her, high on endorphins as she looks down at him and relishes in the view of his dishevelled form. Liam’s eyebrows crease together, clearly confused before she continues, still out of breath, “I should have done that the first night we met.”

He breathes out a relieved laugh, “Right,” he says, nodding, “so, I take it as you like the song?”

She smiles coyly.

Fallon loves that this is what they are, that they spend so much energy trying to make one other laugh. Maybe it’s why she always feels so incredibly happy when she’s around him, they naturally want to see the other person smile, and if that isn’t a language of love, she has no idea what is.

“Yeah,” she responds, “it was pretty good.”

His eyebrow raises, “Just _good?”_

She hums, “I mean, you only wrote it in a couple of hours, there are a few changes I can think of-”

“Shut up,” he laughs, interrupting her with pulling her in for another kiss, making her smile against his lips. She almost gets lost in him again until she remembers why she broke it off in the first place.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she rambles as she pulls back, “let’s go somewhere a little more comfortable.”

He seems to comprehend their current issue and agrees as he follows her when she stands.

Fallon makes a beeline to leave the recording booth, but before she can even open the door, Liam takes her by surprise as he captures her waist, turning her towards him and presses her back against the glass door. It’s easy to read his intentions when he smirks, gazing at her with a starving look in his blue eyes, and she knows in that moment that she’s a complete goner.

They surge towards each other, meeting in the middle, their mouths melding and moving together like they’ve already been doing this for years.

They quickly take it that one step further, first a press of tongues and then Liam’s bringing Fallon’s bottom lip between his teeth and it makes her go weak in the knees. She sighs, resting her head against the glass which exposes her neck, inspiring Liam’s next moves.

His lips leave hers to be replaced with the sensitive skin of her neck, causing her to gasp out loud at the sudden sensation of pleasure bolting down her spine. Her hands fly up, carding her fingers into his hair, and she closes her eyes, allowing herself to fully concentrate on her sense of touch.

She feels Liam place sporadic kisses all over, like he’s searching for something, and when his lips press down on the spot just below her ear, she can’t help the moan that escapes her. It’s obvious that he _was_ looking for something when she feels him smile against her skin, impressed with himself for discovering a spot even _she_ wasn’t aware of. He tongues at the skin there, and nips slightly, causing her hands to clench and tug at his hair.

Her mind isn’t saying much except _more._

She bends her knee, trying to wrap her right leg around him and Liam catches onto her intentions quickly, grabbing her thigh to keep it firmly in place next to his hip. Sure, this isn’t the couch she was heading towards, but at least now she can feel his body pressed against hers. More specifically, at this angle, she can push her hips forwards and feel the hardened bulge in the front of Liam’s jeans, and it causes him to momentarily detach his lips from her neck and moan out her name into her ear. It’s erotic as hell, making her absentmindedly push her hips even further, seeking friction at her core, relishing in the knowledge that he wants her just as much as she wants him right now.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said to move somewhere more comfortable,” she pants out, “but it _does_ feel incredible.”

“It’s not enough,” he comments breathily, and she is in complete agreeance, so she removes her hands from his hair and clumsily begins to unbutton his white shirt as they go in for another kiss. He makes it difficult for her to concentrate on the task at hand when he cups her left breast with his free hand and slides his thumb over her nipple, the lace from her bra pleasantly rubbing against the sensitive skin there.

“Oh, _god_ , Liam,” she whines against his lips.

He smirks against her mouth, clearly pleased with himself, which only makes her more desperate to undo the seemingly impossible buttons on his shirt, considering just ripping the damn thing open.

Thankfully, she is patient enough to reach the last button and then _finally,_ her hands can roam down his chest, wandering lower into the small space between their bodies to feel over the well-defined muscles there.

Her hands gradually travel lower, following the V of his hips as Liam slips his tongue into her mouth, she reaches for his belt, intent on undoing the buckle when the sudden shrill of Liam’s phone ringing interrupts them.

They both freeze, the noise cutting through and jolting them back into reality. They reluctantly part to allow Liam to fish the phone out of his pocket, he takes one look at the caller and hangs his head low.

“Damn it,” he hisses, silencing the call, ignoring it, which is unusual for him.

“What? Who is it?” Fallon asks, panting slightly, looking down at the phone in his palm. He looks back up at her, dread in his eyes.

“It’s my Mom, I promised I’d have dinner with her tonight.”

Fallon let’s out a breath, chuckling, and grabs hold of his shirt to pull him closer as she says, “Well get rid of her.”

Liam goes willingly, a playful smile forming on his face before Fallon captures his lips, trying to tempt him. He presses against her mouth a few times before groaning and pulling back.

“I _can’t_. Crazy Mom, remember?”

“Liam, you’re not exactly in a fit state to be going to dinner right now.” She raises her eyebrow, looking down at the singer, her eyes travelling to one specific region which she’s sure he’d find it hard to walk straight because of right now.

“Trust me, the thought of spending a whole evening with my Mom?” Liam looks away as if in thought, “yeah, that’s enough to kill the mood in five seconds flat.”

She lets out a chuckle, “She’s _really_ that bad?” Fallon asks, still assuming he is over-exaggerating.

“I’ll let you be the judge of that one day.” He sighs, leaning closer, speaking in hushed whispers, “besides, we probably shouldn’t have, you know-”

“Have sex in this studio whilst I’m still engaged to another man? Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Liam offers her a sympathetic smile, “What are you going to do?”

She has no idea.

“I’ll figure it out.”

He nods, slowly, “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She smiles, “Yeah.”

Liam moves to stand by her side and brings his hand up to cup her face, planting a sweet kiss on her cheek before whispering goodbye.

Then she’s moving out of the way to let him leave, watching as he buttons up his shirt, puts on his brown leather jacket and goes through the wooden door, leading to the foyer.

The second he’s gone she feels it in her whole body just how much she instantly misses him _._

She swears she’s never run so fast in her life as she sprints through the recording studio in her heels and throws open the wooden door, reaching him just before he turns the lock to the exit.

It takes him by surprise when she grabs his wrist and throws her arms around his neck so that she can give him one last kiss. Liam makes a surprised noise, but catches on quickly, returning the kiss hungrily, his arms snaking around her form, pulling her close.

She teases him, a promise of what he’s missing by leaving right now, and pulls away before either of them are ready for the kiss to end.

“I didn’t want to let you leave without giving you something to think about,” she explains with a smirk on her lips.

Liam’s eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide as he smirks back, “You are dangerous,” he says, his voice huskier than usual. He leans forwards, intent on catching her lips again, but she pulls away out of reach.

“You better go before you’re late.”

Liam sighs, “You’re probably right.”

He motions with his head towards the door, “Sounds pretty quiet out there now but don’t chance it, call your security to escort you out, alright?”

She nods, softening with the change of conversation, “Yeah, I will.”

“Alright,” He whispers back, letting her go with a lingering touch so that she can hide behind the door as he opens it and looks back, giving her a sincere smile before leaving.

Fallon closes the door behind him, locking it again and presses her head against the cool metal. It feels good to take a second to just breathe and try to figure out all of what just happened.

Like how great that kiss was, all of them, in fact.

And how incredibly sure she is now that Liam is _exactly_ what she wants, what she _needs._

A noise in the far corner of the room interrupts her thoughts, grabbing her attention. Slowly, she turns her head towards the reception desk, catching a glimpse of the redhead looking back at her, his eyes wide.

She’d completely forgotten he was even there.

Danny holds his hands up, palms facing her in surrender, “I didn’t see a thing.”

~

Fallon takes Liam’s advice, she calls her security team to clear the area and asks her driver to take her home, giving one of her guards the keys to her Porsche.

The truth is, she could have driven herself home, but she really needs some liquid courage for what she is about to do, and her car is always well stocked with hard liquor.

Two drinks in and she begins to panic in the backseat when she tries to picture what she’s going to say. It terrifies her that she’s about to destroy the life she has so pedantically built for herself, the one she has become comfortable and compliant in.

But, comfortable and compliant does not equal happy.

Before Fallon met Liam, she thought she was numb and hollow, unable to feel anything but the truth is she _did_ feel, it’s just that what she felt was misery, pain and even rejection. Culhane only really wanted her when it worked for him, even down to telling her to stay in Atlanta rather than going back to LA.

She’d gotten so used to telling herself that she was an independent woman who could be without her man for a few weeks at a time that she never stopped to truly reflect on why he didn’t want her there.

Or why she, in turn, was completely fine with not seeing him for weeks.

They were actually proud of how their relationship worked, showing that they weren’t co-dependent at all, but surely that’s not the way it’s supposed to be? She should at least _miss_ him when they’re apart.

But she doesn’t.

And then it occurs to her that he’s never said that he misses her either.

Her breath hitches in her throat.

How has she been so blind? It’s like she’s been living in the dark this whole time, in this seemingly perfect relationship, hiding and burying her feelings and then Liam Ridley came along and exposed her to everything. 

Now that she knows that truth, there’s no denying that one of her options is to approach Culhane and let him know how she feels about their relationship. There is always a chance that they could work on it and fix it together, maybe even try couple’s therapy and get their spark back. Then her whole world wouldn’t be derailed, perhaps she’d even be happy. She can’t deny that the fearful part of her is still tempted by that option.

Fallon brings her glass to her lips, swallowing down a decent mouthful. No, that fearful side of her needs to be burned out hotter than the feeling of the whisky travelling down her throat. She cannot back out on this now, she has to see it through to the end because now that she’s had a taste of Liam Ridley, she’s hooked. Like a junkie looking for their next fix, she feels it itching under her skin.

She needs to feel him on her body to quench the flames that are burning for him.

And she _will_ have it.

~

By the time she arrives home after asking her driver to go around the block a few times to help her to mentally prepare, she’s pleasantly buzzed. The alcohol in her veins calms her nerves but isn’t enough to disrupt her mind from effectively functioning.

The sun has just begun to set when she steps out of the car. She takes a moment to admire the gradient of black to cyan, settling across the horizon. It crosses her mind that the beauty of it is likely a stark contrast to the ugliness of what’s about to go down.

Her driver pulls away, and she’s left standing alone, now staring at her own front door, needing a moment to breathe in some courage. She closes her eyes and fills up her lungs with it so that it oxygenates her blood, and gives her the ability to walk into the house.

She only gets as far as the foyer, standing at the foot of the stairs when Culhane appears from the kitchen.

Fallon looks down, unable to meet him in the eyes as she throws her purse onto a nearby console table.

“Hey,” she says, “we need to talk.”

“You’re damn right we do.” His tone is sharp, unforgiving. Her head immediately snaps up at the sound, assessing the fervour in his eyes, his lips pursed, his jaw rigid. It’s intimidating to be on the receiving end of it.

She assumes momentarily that Danny has told Culhane about her kiss with Liam, but then her eyes travel across his form to his hand and she has to squint slightly but can just make out that he’s holding a scrap of paper which she had been using to write down a new song. It had been a few days ago when she’d sat down at her piano, and inspiration had struck. The words and chords had come to her so quickly that she struggled to even get it all down in time. Then it had been left there, abandoned, forgotten ever since, the drama of the weekend taking priority.

Culhane shakes the hand it’s in, bringing it closer to her face.

“What the _hell_ is this?”

Her eyebrows crease together, incredulous to the disrespect he’s shown her privacy. It causes her defences to spring up immediately, her arms crossing over her chest like a shield, a trickle of anger pumping around her body, spreading, until the calm and well thought out speech she had prepared goes flying out of the window.

“It’s a song, what does it look like to you?”

Culhane sighs, shaking his head in disbelief at her nonchalance, “It’s a _love_ song, Fallon.”

She knows.

It’s the first she’s ever written.

She can’t even remember it, she’s pretty sure she was a bottle of red wine down when she wrote it, but she remembers it was _definitely_ a love song.

“Yes? And?”

That only infuriates him further, stepping closer, “ _And?_ You are Fallon Carrington. Fallon Carrington does _not_ write love songs.”

“Do you hear yourself right now?” Her voice is pitched high, scandalised at the way he’s acting, “I can write whatever the fuck I want, Michael.”

“You can write it, but this is never going to become a record.”

The noose he has around her neck tightens, and tightens, until it gets to the point where she’s struggling to breathe.

He does this to her _every time,_ but she fights it now, reminding herself why she is here in the first place, and the noose snaps.

“Thank you,” she says, and for some reason, there’s a feeling of euphoria which passes over her, makes her smile, and she has to hold back a hysterical laugh so that she can continue, “thank you for making this a hell of a lot easier.”

He looks at her with a frown, bewildered.

“For making _what_ easier?”

She takes a deep breath in, attempting to sober. It works enough to allow her to look him in the eyes, her expression serious when she says with sureness, “I’m leaving you. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to marry you, I don’t want to be in a relationship with you, I don’t even want you to be my producer.”

He startles, perplexed. 

“What are you talking about, Fallon? This is coming out of nowhere.”

“Nowhere? Are you kidding me? We constantly fight Michael, this is _not_ a healthy relationship,” she gestures between them, adding emphasis to her point.

They haven’t been in a healthy relationship at all – Fallon never truly noticed it until now, but he held so much power over her that she was being kept in a cage by him, her career being shaped and formed into the way _he_ wanted it to be. And okay, maybe it was the way it would make her famous and get her songs to be played on the radio, but that didn’t have to extend to blunting her creativity.

“Fine, then we’ll work on it,” he replies, almost blasé.

“I don’t _want_ to work on it,” she responds instantly, the words coming straight from her gut, an instinctive reaction.

Culhane nods and lets out a breathy laugh.

“This is about that Liam guy, isn’t it?”

“No. I haven’t been happy for _months_. Liam may have helped me to realise that, but I’m not leaving you for him, I am leaving you for me. I need to be free of you, and this control you have over me. Just, for the love of god, let me go,” she punctuates the last words, hoping they’ll pierce his skin and settle in.

But, instead, he keeps his eye contact, not even flinching and asks, “Did you sleep with him?”

She wants to scream, the raw feeling of rage burning up inside her is begging for some kind of release.

“Now you’re not even listening to me!” It comes out as a shout, her voice loud, angry, shaken. Out of control. Just like how she feels in this conversation right now.

“I don’t have to, you cheated on me, and now you feel bad, so you’re breaking up with me, but that’s not how this works, Fallon. You don’t get to just walk away, we are a couple, we’ll figure this out. Okay? I get it, I’ve been neglecting you so you felt the need to get attention from somewhere else but just remember that whatever he is offering you, I can offer you double.”

“Oh my god,” she cries out in desperation, “you can’t offer me what I want because what I want is freedom from you.”

He looms over her, “Well that’s just tough isn’t it? Because you’re contracted to me for another eighteen months and everything you write, including _this,_ ” he wafts the paper in his hand, drawing her attention to it before lowering his head, glowering at her, practically snarling, “belongs to me.”

Her face is inches from his, their body language mirrored like predators ready to attack.

“Fine,” she sneers through gritted teeth, “then I won’t write a damn thing for eighteen months, and when it’s over, you will _never_ hear from me again. I will _never_ forgive you for this.”

She traces her eyes down his form and back up again, feeling nothing but disgust for the man in front of her, knowing that this was him showing his true colors, “I hate you.” 

Without a second thought, she rips the diamond ring off of her finger, throws it unceremoniously at his chest, turns, and walks away as she hears it clatter against the white marble floor.

“You’re really going to walk away? Please, you’ll be back in five minutes for hot, angry make up sex like you always are.” The smugness in his voice turns her stomach, and it fuels her to prove to him just how wrong he is “-Fallon!” He calls out to her, but she carries on walking, only a few metres away from the front door when he takes her by surprise and grabs her wrist, twisting her around so that she’s in his arms.

“No, get the hell off of me, Culhane!”

She roughly pushes her palms against his shoulders, trying to keep him at bay, but his fingers interlace at the base of her spine, keeping her firmly in place.

“Come on, baby, we always have the best make up sex, stop resisting it.”

She has no idea how he could be reading this situation so wrong.

Then she smells the alcohol on his breath, and it suddenly all makes sense.

He leans down, his eyes closing and she squirms away when she realises what he’s trying to do. He is inches away from pressing his lips against hers when she screams, “I mean it, get off of me!”

She isn’t strong enough to move him, but she pulls back with so much force that his fingers unlock, and she is freed from his grasp. It takes so much power to leave his grip that her body continues propelling backwards and when she turns abruptly to continue her advancement on the door, she doesn’t notice that an iron sconce on the wall is so close to her head.

Fallon hits it with a forceful blow, right above her left eyebrow, the shock setting in immediately. The pain is delayed until she puts a trembling hand up to her head, feeling at the wound, the sight of the crimson blood there makes her instantly nauseous. In an instant, her body feels weak, swaying, and she has to use a side table to keep her upright, her vision blurring, her head dizzy.

“Oh my god, Fallon, I’m so sorry-”

Fallon feels his hand on her upper arm. She shrugs him off, “Get off of me, call Sam, _now.”_

She hears him run into another room, his voice mumbled, but she can make out Sam’s name on his lips.

The blinding pain etches its way in slowly, building up until it’s all she can feel. She keeps an iron grip on the table in front of her like it’s a lifeline and her other hand presses against the bleeding wound.

She knows it’s bad, she can feel it’s bad.

All she can do is wait and hope she doesn’t pass out before Sam comes to get her.

~

Liam’s pacing, wearing the carpeting in the small foyer of the studio thin as he waits for Fallon to make an appearance. He chews his lip and takes another look at his watch.

09:10.

She’s late, and Fallon Carrington is _never_ late.

He decides to pace a little more as his thoughts race around his head.

There’s one repelling idea reverberating around his mind, it makes the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach double in intensity as he ponders whether she is avoiding him after that kiss.

After the conversation they’d had yesterday morning, he can’t help but think that maybe it was her way of figuring out if they had something she could risk it all for – and that she’s decided that isn’t the case and now she can’t face him.

But, even if that were true, he’d told her that if all she could offer was friendship, he would gladly accept her offer.

Even if that kiss meant nothing to her, he could respect that, despite it meaning _everything_ to him.

So, it doesn’t make any sense to him that she isn’t here yet – but then he freezes as he hears the door creak open behind him. He swallows, mentally preparing himself for the speech he has planned out in his head, but his heart sinks when he turns and sees that it’s Sam who is walking into the studio and not her.

“Sam,” he greets him and instantly notes the lines under his eyes, denoting tiredness, anxiety, worry. Despite that, Sam smiles tightly at him as he approaches the singer.

“Liam, Fallon sent me to apologise and to let you know that she can’t make it in today, or probably for the rest of the week if I’m being honest. She asked me to give you this.”

He pulls a piece of paper out from the files in his hands and presents it to him. Liam takes the offered piece of paper into his hands and reads it over. It’s a simple schedule for the rest of the week, full of instructions which, as Liam instantly notices, only requires himself to be present in the studio.

“She recommends you work on the backing harmonies today and tomorrow the choir singers are coming in, she wants you to direct on that…” Sam continues reading off the list, but Liam stops listening, his intrusive thoughts growing louder, impossible to ignore.

“Is she okay?” He interrupts.

He notices Sam tense for a moment before smiling. “Yes,” he grimaces, “I mean, no, well she’s…” He pauses, like he’s looking for the right words. “Sick. Kind of. But it doesn’t seem to be too serious, but she can’t leave the house. Or have visitors.”

Liam has always been a pretty good judge of character, usually being able to pick up on the tells when someone is lying. Like how Sam hasn’t been able to give him eye contact the whole time he’s been in the building.

“Sam,” he catches his gaze, and can tell instantly that Sam feels uncomfortable under scrutiny, proving his theory correct, “I don’t believe you, please just tell me the truth. What’s happened?”

“Look,” he says, "it's really not my place to say, just.” He pauses for a moment, and breathes out, “Just be patient with her. She’ll be back as soon as she can.”

Liam nods, understanding he has boundaries he has to respect.

“Alright, thanks anyway, man.”

Sam pats him on the shoulder sympathetically before turning to leave, throwing a quick, “Goodbye” over to Danny before disappearing.

Then he’s gone, and Liam is left alone with his thoughts, hoping he didn’t somehow screw everything up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You like?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam finds out what Culhane did, and he's not happy.

Their family’s doctor must have given Fallon some incredibly strong painkillers because it takes _days_ for her to begin to even be aware of her surroundings. Her memories of those first few days after her head injury are blurry and distorted. She recalls Sam frantically driving her back to the manor, her Father losing his shit the second he laid eyes on her and the blood pouring down her face, and then a flurry of madness ensuing.

Then there is very little, just a blankness of space and time.

She has some vague memories of occasionally waking up in sickening pain, being given more pain killers, some food being practically forced down her throat, then falling back into blissful unconsciousness.

By the time the pain begins to reside, and she is given a smaller dose of the pain killers, it’s apparently already Friday. Her mind is still sluggish, her complexion pale, her movements lethargic as she sits in a bubble bath in the en suite of her old bedroom in the Carrington manor, still dazed.

“Why do I feel like this?” She asks, slurring her speech as if she’s been drinking.

Cristal sighs behind her, moving a sponge over her bare back, “Because you’re on some powerful pain meds, had a mild concussion and lost a lot of blood. You should have gone to the hospital, but you refused to go because you didn’t want the public finding out about what happened.”

“Oh,” she responds, confusion written across her features. She has no memory of that whatsoever. It does sound like something she would say, though. “So is my face all messed up now?”

“No,” Cristal replies, “the cut actually isn’t that big, so they glued it, you do have a killer black eye though.”

Fallon nods slowly as the information sluggishly registers in her head, realising this is going to create a media shit storm if she dares to leave the manor, and responds sarcastically, “Sweet.”

Cristal moves to sit on her haunches, looking Fallon in the eyes, her expression full of concern, “Fallon…” She begins, her whole demeanour serious, her tone low so that she isn’t overheard, “now that you’re thinking a little clearer, will you be honest with me?” Cristal leans a little closer, “did Culhane hit you?”

It takes Fallon by surprise that Cristal would even care that much to ask, she’d been convinced for years that her step-mother despises her guts. Or perhaps that has been an over-exaggeration made by the manipulative whispers of Culhane constantly in her ear, keeping her distanced from her family so that he could have her all for himself. “No, honestly, he didn’t,” she responds, realising that despite her foggy memory, that _was_ something she remembers clearly. “I broke up with him, I was on the way out, and he grabbed me and tried to kiss me. When I pulled away from him, that’s when I hit the,” her muddled brain can’t materialise the correct word, her hand flailing in the air as if to coax the terminology from her mind, “the _thing_.”

Cristal nods, taking in the information, “Still, he shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I never did have a good feeling about him.”

Fallon barks out a short, sharp laugh, at the irony.

“Well, you married Blake, so, I don’t exactly trust your judgement in men.”

“That’s…” Cristal looks like she contemplates Fallon’s words, then shrugs, admitting defeat, “Fair. Maybe you should give men a break for a while.”

 _What a terrible suggestion_.

Her drug-riddled brain immediately springs memories of that intense make-out session with Liam to the forefront of her mind, blood rushing to her cheeks, and her lips curve into a grin.

That kiss was _everything_.

All that turmoil she has been in for weeks melted away with that first sweet kiss when she’d taken him by surprise on the floor, right after he’d sung those precious words to her.

Then he’d returned the sentiment by pushing her against that door, and it was so… unexpected, but so, so hot.

“Oh, definitely not,” Fallon responds, throwing a challenging smirk at Cristal, “I’m not letting this one get one away.”

Cristal raises an eyebrow in question, “You’re getting back together with him?”

“God no,” Fallon responds instantly, “the only way that man could ever get me to be in the same room with him again would be if he physically forced me.”

“So you’re talking about someone else?” Cristal enquires.

“Maybe. I don’t kiss and tell,” Fallon smirks, laying her head against the side of the tub, closing her eyes.

It takes Fallon a few moments, but eventually the cogs in her brain start turning, catching up with reality when she thinks about seeing Liam again, and how she should have been in the studio to direct the choir singers who were hired to do some backing vocals on Wednesday, “– Wait.”

Fallon’s heart skips a beat, “What day did you say it is again?”

“It’s Friday.”

Her eyes widen, her jaw drops.

“Oh _shit._ ”

She’s missed _everything_ and hasn’t even spoken to Liam since Monday. 

Cristal blinks quickly, tilting her head to the side, “What’s wrong?”

“I need to…” Fallon tries to pull herself up out of the bath, “my, ugh, Cristal, I need to call him. Help!”

“Who? Fallon, you need to calm down,” her voice is authoritative, placing a hand on Fallon’s shoulder to keep her in place.

“My…” Fallon struggles to find the right term, settling instead for “my Liam.”

“The guy Sam has been going to visit in your studio?” Cristal asks, blinking at her.

“Sam’s dealing with it?” Fallon demands, “he’s been going to the studio?”

Cristal nods, “Yes, you probably don’t remember, but you were shouting instructions at Sam to take an agenda to him whilst the doctor glued your head shut.”

She ignores the passive aggressiveness in her step-mother's tone, relief flooding over her, and she lays back in the bathtub, relaxing with a sigh, “Oh, thank god.”

The more her pain killers wear off, the more she starts to remember, the memory vaguely playing in her head.

_“Ow!” She screams at the doctor, batting him away with her hand as he attempts to inspect the wound on her head._

_“Fallon,” Blake says authoritatively, “stop being so stubborn and let him do his job.”_

_She throws a displeased look at her father, eventually putting her hand down to let the doctor move closer. He instructs her to close her eyes and to stay completely still._

_“Sam?!”_

_“I’m here,” the voice of her assistant appears to the right-hand side of her._

_“There’s a schedule on my phone, you need to write it up and take it to Liam at precisely 9 in the morning, okay?” She demands, waving her hand towards her purse lying on the floor._

_“Yeah, got it,” he responds, and she vaguely hears him fumbling around with the zipper._

_“Whatever you do, don’t tell him what happened, okay?” She requests, hissing as the doctor wipes over the wound with an alcohol wipe._

_“Yeah, I’ll go type it up now.”_

_“Wait, wait, wait-” she calls after him, peeking open her right eye to glance at him, “tell him I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright?”_

An alarm goes off on Cristal’s phone sitting on the marble counter, interrupting their conversation, “It’s time for you to take your next lot of meds, come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

Her step-mother grabs a large towel and wraps it around Fallon’s form as she stands, the movement causing her to feel woozy and unbalanced, but Cristal keeps her arms on her shoulders as she helps her step out of the tub.

“Alright, there are some clothes on the side, I’ll let you get dressed, call if you need me I’ll be just right outside,” Cristal explains, heading towards the door. 

Fallon thanks her step-mother before she leaves, securing the towel under her arms and walks the short distance towards her mirror, using her hand to clear it of the steam which has settled on the glass.

A shocking amalgamation of purples and blues staining the skin around her left eye stares back at her.

“Oh my god,” she whispers under her breath and leans closer to the mirror to better assess the damage. The cut above her eyebrow where she’d collided with the decorative sconce is smaller than she’d expected, the amount of blood that had poured out of her head made it seem like it was a huge gash across her whole forehead. The skin was already beginning to stitch itself back together, the doctor had done a decent job, it would only leave a small scar, if one at all. It's the bruising around her eye which takes her breath away. The outskirts had already begun to fade to a brown, so it’s healing, but it will clearly take a few more days before it’s gone completely.

But she can’t leave Liam for that long – she already feels crushed by the knowledge that he’s been all alone in the studio for the past four days, possibly believing she has been avoiding seeing him. Fallon knows that there’s no chance of her escaping the manor to see him if she carries on being drugged up and sleeping off the thumping pain etching it’s way steadily into her head.

This is the clearest headed Fallon’s felt in days, and yet there is still a wooliness to her thoughts like her brain is only running on 50% capacity. Her usual sharp intellect is dulled, but there is enough there for her to hatch a plan. So she dresses quickly and gets back into bed, and when Cristal passes her the pain killers, she imitates throwing them down her throat.

She waits until the coast is clear before flushing them, and just endures the pain for the rest of the weekend.

~

On Monday morning Fallon gets up early, throws on a short black skirt, white blouse, and a black blazer with heels, which she figures is a timeless look considering the majority of the clothes in her old closet are out by a few seasons. However, the most important thing she wears is a large black hat and wide-rimmed sunglasses to cover up the still healing wound and bruising on her face. Makeup can do a lot, but it doesn’t disguise her still slightly bloodshot eye.

Then she manages to sneak out of the manor without being caught by any of her family members and pays off the gardener to let her borrow her Dad’s convertible. It’s not like he’ll be missing it in November, preferring to take his Bently to the office.

So, when she reaches the studio, Danny has only just arrived, setting the place up and is surprised to see her so early. Fallon offers no explanation for her lack of presence for the past few days, walking directly through the foyer, throwing him a simple “Good morning,” before passing through the wooden door and hiding away in the studio.

It’s better that no one asks questions, a media frenzy is the last thing she needs right now.

Fallon busies herself, exploring, figuring out what Liam has been up to for the past four days. The main thing she needs to do is listen to the choir’s vocals, so she trawls through the recordings, listens to them all, makes notes of the ones she thinks sounds viable and layers them over the final chorus, testing each. Fallon disregards any that doesn’t give her chills. She becomes so engrossed in the task, holding the earphone pressed to her ear as she listens to a feasible mix on repeat that she startles when she feels a pressure on her arm.

“Ah, _jesus!”_ Fallon exclaims, her whole body clenching, flinching away from the touch, her heart instantly pounding in her chest. She turns in the swivel chair, throwing the headphones down, taking in Liam’s form and breathes out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank god, you scared the hell out of me.”

She places her hand on her chest, willing her pulse to decelerate, but it’s difficult when Liam crouches in front of her, his eyes wandering, calculating. There are worry lines on his forehead, and she instinctively wants to reach out and smooth them away.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, his voice soft, “Fallon, what happened? Where have you been?”

Her throat feels dry, she has been dreading having this conversation with him because she has no idea how he will react.

She’s pretty sure he’s going to be pissed, that’s about it.

For the past few days as the fog had slowly lifted from her mind, she’d attempted to piece together a plan of how to tell him, so she takes a deep breath in and starts with the most important thing, “Okay, do you promise not to freak out and get mad?”

He looks perplexed at the question, “Why would I get mad? Look, Fallon if you don’t want anything to happen between us, I can respect that-”

“-I wasn’t sick,” she interrupts him before he can finish off that sentence. She had been afraid that he thought she was just avoiding him, that she wasn’t interested in a relationship with him, and now to hear him say it, _god_ it kills her inside because it’s a million miles from the truth.

“Yeah, I kind of worked that out,” he replies, his voice tight.

“But Sam didn’t lie, I couldn’t leave the house. Honestly, I was hardly conscious for a few days,” she sighs deeply, and places her palm on his cheek, caressing the skin there with her thumb, “It wasn’t because I didn’t want to see you.”

That seems to calm him somewhat, his features softening, and she feels him subtly lean into her touch.

They stay like that for a few moments so that she can drink him in, before smiling tightly, knowing she has to stop delaying this.

She has to accept that he needs to know what happened.

So she sighs, and slowly takes off her sunglasses and hat, placing them on the desk in front of her to reveal the still healing cut above her eyebrow and bloodshot eye.

Liam recoils at the sight, taking in her injuries. She sees him swallow and the muscles in his jaw tense, his gaze sharpens.

“I’m going to kill him.” 

Then he’s gone, swiftly standing and walking off in the direction of the door with purpose.

“Liam, it’s not-” she rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop, “okay, I kind of expected this,” she mumbles to herself as she runs after him, grabbing his arm, nudging him to turn around to look at her. It’s like her touch melts him, she hardly has to use any pressure, and he’s meeting her eyes, a look of anguish in his own.

“It’s not what you think,” she tries to tell him, desperation in her voice.

Liam looks at her, his eyes flicking up to the cut on her forehead a few times before gazing at her with intensity, “Fallon, tell me, yes or no, is he the reason you have that?”

_Fuck._

Him asking her that question was not part of the plan.

“Well, yes, but-”

“That’s all I need to know.”

And at that, Liam opens up the wooden door and is walking out into the foyer with Fallon chasing him, hot on his heels.

“We don’t even know where he is,” she explains, “he’s hiding somewhere.”

“Then I’ll find him,” Liam responds, his voice clipped.

“My father already has people looking for him.”

“Well they’re not doing a very good job, are they? You said I’d make a good detective. Might as well start somewhere.”

Now she really regrets ever telling him that.

The thing which scares her the most is that with all of the ties Liam’s family has, she thinks there’s a good chance he might actually be able to find Culhane, and what would happen if he did? He’s strong, but Culhane is unhinged and already fuelled with believing that Liam is the one to take Fallon away from him. There’s no telling what extremes Culhane would go to, and the thought of Liam being hurt terrifies her.

Fallon thinks quickly, and figures there’s only one way to get him to stop in his pursuit of her ex.

“And what about me?” She asks demandingly, “Liam, _I_ need you right now.”

It works.

Liam stops dead just before he reaches the metal door leading out to the street and turns towards her.

He’s thinking, calculating, processing what she’s just said. His shoulders relax after a few seconds.

“Fallon, I’m sorry,” he approaches her, “I didn’t even _think_.”

“I get it,” she cuts him off, “I would probably react the exact same way if the situation was reversed, but you don’t even know the whole story yet.” She reaches out for his hand, taking it into her own and squeezes it, hoping it will tether him to her so that he doesn’t try to make a run for it again. She looks up into his eyes, pleading with him, “Can we please just sit down so that I can explain everything?”

Liam nods, his gaze softer now, “Of course.”

He lets her lead him back into the studio, sitting on the sofa facing each other, mirroring the way they were this time a week ago when he’d told her that he would stay in her life, no matter how she wanted to define that relationship. Except now, she is sure of her decision, and she can take his hand and draw strength from his touch.

She takes in a deep, shaky breath, then explains everything, right from the moment that he left the studio to have dinner with his Mom to the argument she had with Culhane. No detail is left out, including Sam driving her to the manor, the doctor fixing her up and how she’s been spending the past few days recovering without any pain killers so that she could be here with him.

“Wait are you in pain right now?” He asks, concern etched on his face.

There’s a dull ache behind her eyes, and her skin is still tender to the touch, trying to cover it over with makeup this morning had been a painful chore.

“I think I’m just used to it by now,” she says, attempting to lessen the severity of the situation with a hint of humour, like always.

Liam doesn’t take the bait, his serious and worried gaze unwavering, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She smiles immediately, batting her eyelashes at him, “A kiss would be nice.”

He reflects her smile, his eyes shining as he takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger and ever so gently guides her to his lips.

The kiss is soft, sweet, lingering.

It makes her feel warm inside, her skin tingling in the most delicious way possible.

The press of his lips against hers feels indescribably perfect, fitting together perfectly, but before she has the opportunity to press closer like she wants to, he pulls away and mumbles, “Feel any better?”

“Hmm,” she pulls a thoughtful expression, then leans in close, “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to try again.”

Liam breathes out a whisper of a laugh before catching her lips again, but he’s still so delicate, treating her like she’ll break at any moment, so she brings her hands up to the back of his neck, giving him a nudge, parting her lips, inviting him in. He goes with caution, their breaths mingling, their tongues tasting, exploring, still so tender. His hands slide up her back, gentle.

The last time they did this things got very heated, very fast. Fallon feels it again now, that allure, that burning desire just starting in the pit of her stomach, it’s craving _more and more_ from him.

Fallon knows he must feel it too, but he’s the one to resist, to pull away.

He offers her a smile by way of explanation when he sees her look of disappointment.

“Are you sure that this is what you want?” He asks, and she’s astonished he even has to when her actions speak so loudly. However, she figures that it makes sense for him to ask, Liam deserves to _hear_ her say it. She understands the value in being told that yes, I want you and I’m sure of that decision.

His hands are still at the small of her back, his fingers drawing circles and even through her clothes, his touch scalds her, demanding to be noticed.

She brings her hands up, resting on the side of his neck, her thumb caressing at his ear lobes, hoping it will bring him a similar feeling of comfort, and looks him straight in the eyes, “Liam, I just gave up _everything_ and trust me when I say that nothing has ever felt more right. I want you, I want _anything_ you are willing to give me.”

Should she feel scared of saying that to a man she’s known for less than a few months? Probably. But when it feels like the universe is telling her that this is _it,_ that her future is sat right in front of her, it’s difficult to ignore.

Impossible, even.

“We should probably go on a date,” Liam says with a smirk, and Fallon can’t help the laughter that bubbles up inside and escapes her, making Liam laugh along with her, like her laughter is infectious.

The first time they’d met she’d taken his hand and run away with him, letting him take her to a bench in the middle of nowhere where she’d sang to him that she wants forever with him. Then they’d spent an intense six weeks together in this studio, and now she’s broken up with her fiancé without any regrets, and they haven’t even had a date.

 _We’re_ _ridiculous._

“Yeah, probably. But I’m not going anywhere looking like _this,_ ” she comments once their laughter recedes, pointing to the injuries on her face.

“My place, Tonight? I’ll cook. If you’re up for it?”

Her heart skips a beat.

“Sounds perfect.”

They smile at each other, knowingly.

That contagious chemistry that sizzled between them when they’d first met and were sat at the bar in the old courthouse sparks, flurrying back to life. Fallon had tried to suppress it, drown it out so that she could stand being alone with Liam without trying to throw herself at him, and it had worked, but now there was no need to keep it behind locked doors.

She could let it out of its cage, let it be as ravenous as it wanted.

Well, maybe waiting until they had their date later this evening is wise.

Today is going to be a struggle to keep her hands to herself.

“Alright, good,” Liam says as he stands and starts making his way out of the studio.

It takes her by surprise, “Where are you going?”

He laughs, turning back to her, his arms outstretched, palms facing the ceiling, “I’m surprised you haven’t complained yet.”

It clicks in her mind when she takes notice of his empty hands, of their usual ritual and routine being disturbed amid her life’s madness, “Coffee.”

He nods, confirming.

“Coffee.”

“Hey, get some of those little chocolate croissants too,” she calls to him before he disappears behind the closing door. He stops it in its wake, shooting a glance back.

“You got it, babe.” He winks before leaving, and Fallon’s left alone, smiling like an idiot, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

_Happy._

~

Sam’s text in the middle of the day destroys every ounce of happiness she has.

She’d asked him to go to her house to pick up a few things. Even though it was empty and she is pretty sure Culhane wouldn’t be stupid enough to show up there unannounced, she just can’t bring herself to go back there quite yet.

So Sam had gone, mainly to get her some clothes, including strict instructions from her to pick out a killer outfit for her date tonight, but there is one other thing she wants from the house – that song. The one that she’d written at her piano and Culhane had waved in her face, practically calling it an atrocity.

**(SMS received 12:06 – Sam Jones)**

_Fallon I’ve looked everywhere, I’m sorry but it’s gone._

Her heart sinks.

There’s no doubt in her mind where it is.

Culhane took it with him.

 _Stole it from you,_ her mind replaces.

That simmering anger which her ex-fiancé was _so_ good at triggering makes its way through her veins, trapping air in her lungs, tightening her jaw.

Fallon _hates_ how he still has this hold over her, that he can change the chemicals in her brain from the blissful happiness she was feeling this morning to _this._

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to clear her head.

There is no chance of her getting the song back from him, she knows that. Even if she did, she is contractually obligated to him and that song, unfortunately, _belongs_ to Culhane.

Her only option is to try to remember it, which is pretty difficult considering it was just a scribbled mess, a fleeting thing she’d written. The words had come just as easy as when Liam had brought her to the bench at the airport’s café, and they’d looked up at the stars.

That song, the one her and Liam had sung that night was important – because she had been thinking about it as she’d written this one.

She’d asked for forever with Liam that night –

_Just know that forever will never be enough_

If she closes her eyes she can see it now, those words scrawled on a scrap piece of paper as Culhane’s fingers grasps it, crinkling it. His face scowling, unapproving.

Fallon rushes wordlessly to her piano and plays a melody. It’s similar, but not quite there. It’s missing _something_ from the one she had played when she’d first wrote the song, but it’s enough to spark a memory.

_(I’ll want an eternity with you)_

_It’s you_

_You’re the one I want to hold me close_

She halts her hands from the piano, frantically rushing to finding a pen and writes the lyrics down on a nearby notepad.

_Deep in my heart, you’re the one I want most_

She struggles, her mind going into a bout of lethologica.

 _“Come on,”_ she groans under her breath, sitting back at the piano and plays the slightly-off melody again, hoping it would trigger more of the lyrics from deep within her subconscious, coaxing the words to spring from the tip of her tongue.

She remembers it being a slow, pretty tempo. But the words were desperate, mirroring how she had felt at the time, like she was drowning, waves crashing over her, unrelenting.

_Make me forget these wasted years of decay_

_Have you in my arms at the end of every day_

_I’ll write love songs about us to make you smile_

_Singing in a parking lot about only having a while_

_Laughing as the planes pass us above_

_I ask only this one thing from you my love_

_Remind me who I am, don’t let my mind stray_

_And please hold me close, and I’ll always stay_

Her mind goes blank.

She desperately plays the melody on the piano again – and _nothing._

“Damn it!” She curses, slamming her fingers unceremoniously on the keys, causing it to cry out in pain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey,” she hears Liam set down his guitar which he’d been tuning in the far end of the room, and then his arms envelop her, wrapping around her midsection, and he places a kiss in her hair, “what’s going on?”

She sighs in frustration, loudly. “Culhane stole my freaking song, and I’m trying my best, but I just can’t remember it.”

Liam lets go of her momentarily to sit at her side on the bench, snaking an arm around her, his palm settling against her back. The warmth of him transfers through her blouse, and mixed with the scent of his cologne, it calms her nervous system. He makes her feel safe.

“Are you sure he has it?” He asks.

“Yeah,” she says, defeated. “I asked Sam to look for it in the house, but it isn’t there. I guess it’s just another part of me that he’s taken.”

Liam gives her a sympathetic look, those stormy ocean eyes reflecting back at her, “He doesn’t have _you_ anymore, though.”

That truth hits her hard, to know that even Liam saw it, how much control Culhane had over her. How her producer had managed to weave his way into every aspect of her life, how he’d twisted and turned everything so that she was his, and his only.

As Fallon considers it now, she remembers that it was Culhane who had convinced her that Blake blamed her for Steven’s death. It was a truth she harboured, buried deep within her brain and believed wholeheartedly and without hesitation, keeping her away from her family. Yet, there is little evidence to prove that theory at all, and Fallon had believed him, blindly.

“I’m sorry about your song,” Liam continues, “but, things that are meant to be found always make their way back to us, sometimes in unexpected ways.”

That makes her smile, chasing away the darkness trying to take hold of her. She loves that Liam can do that.

“I guess it’s probably better off this way,” she says with a sigh, “I wouldn’t have been able to release it for another eighteen months anyway, he refused to let ‘pop-star Fallon Carrington’ release a song with any hint of sentimentality.”

Liam furrows his brows, “Surely there’s a way you can get out of that contract?”

_If only._

She’s way ahead of him there, having spent the whole weekend emailing and calling every lawyer she knows to see if there is a loophole in the contract. “My lawyers have already taken a look at it, and they say it’s watertight. The only way to get out of it would be to battle in court and-”

“And that means the whole public finding out,” Liam supplies, already comprehending the issue.

“Exactly.”

They’re quiet for a moment as they both take it in – the fact that Culhane has managed to completely derail Fallon’s music career for the next year and a half, unless of course she begs for his forgiveness and promises to go back to making generic pop songs, which is never going to happen.

“Look I get it, but Fallon, eighteen months is a _long_ time for you to not make any music.”

Fallon nods, she’d already processed that and grieved the loss of it.

Surprisingly, she’d gotten over it pretty quickly.

“Adele only brings out a new album every five years, and she’s doing pretty well,” she jokes, making Liam breathe out a laugh before returning to his more serious, sympathetic expression.

“I’m not talking about your career,” Liam explains, “I’m talking about _you._ Fallon, you love making music.”

“And I still can,” she says, her voice softening, “I can make yours.”

He hesitates for a moment, shaking his head, “Fallon, you’ve already done so much for me-”

“Liam.” She interrupts, her voice steady, assured. “I _have_ thought this through, and I want to produce your album.”

He looks surprised, and beyond that, she can’t assess any other thought he’s having right now, and she feels her stomach drop.

She’s been so wrapped up in what _she_ wanted it hadn’t even occurred to her that Liam might not even want her touching the rest of his music, and a jittery feeling begins in her stomach, setting her on edge, “I mean, that is if _you_ want me to, obviously, I’m not going to assume, you know, you might want someone with a little more experience,” she knows she’s rambling, but it just keeps coming, projecting from her mouth uncontrollably, “so I guess I could call some people-”

“Okay, no. That is not what I was saying,” Liam cuts her off before she can continue her spiral of self-doubt, “Fallon you are an amazing producer, and I would love for you to make me an album. As long as you’re sure that’s what _you_ want.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure,” she teases.

He smiles that cheeky grin, the one that makes his eyes shine and her cheeks burn, the whole atmosphere in the room shifting, “You got me there.”

Fallon has to look away for a moment to collect herself, her attraction to him tugging at her resolve, trying to pull her in. “So, are we doing this?”

_That didn’t help._

One look at Liam confirms he’d picked up on the innuendo, his smirk growing, waggling his eyebrows at her, “Sure.”

“The album,” she reiterates.

“That’s what I meant,” he says, playing innocent, “what did _you_ mean?”

The way he says that, so low, so suggestive, so… Unfair.

Fallon shakes her head, breathing out a laugh, feeling her cheeks turning red, “Shut up.” 

Liam simply winks back at her.

It does things to her that she doesn’t even allow her mind to process – not right now. Not _here_.

But seriously, if Liam doesn’t get off of this piano bench within the next ten seconds, she might just jump his bones. That dirty dream of hers a few weeks ago is moments away from becoming reality.

“Alright, get back to work,” she demands, her voice clipped.

His eyes light up instantly, “Yes, boss.”

_That really didn’t help._

She _almost_ completely loses it when he makes a move to stand, but leans forwards, and she thinks his intentions are to kiss her cheek, but at the last second he diverts and kisses at that spot he found just below her ear last week. 

Fallon shudders involuntarily at the feel of the lips against her skin and she is sure that Liam only did that to check it still works. 

“I’ll get us some lunch,” he whispers in her ear before dragging his hand up her inner thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze before pulling back and standing, leaving the recording booth with determination.

Leaving her in a daze.

_There’s venom coursing through my veins_

_It hurts but it helps to feel all this pain_

_I’m holding on tight to this sharp cliff edge_

_Trying not to fall back down it to my death_

_His shackles are so tightly wound_

_Grab my hand so I won’t drown_

_~_

“Be honest,” Fallon says as she emerges from her closet in a rose colored, metallic fit and flare style mini-dress, “is this ‘sexy but romantic’ or more ‘fairy at a garden party’?” She plays at the long, flowing sleeves as she waits for Sam’s response.

He looks up from the ottoman at the end of her bed, an eyebrow raised as he assesses her, “Would a fairy at a garden party have so much cleavage and leg showing?”

She grimaces, glancing down at her body, “Do you think it’s too much?”

It is only their first date; she doesn’t want to come across as too forward despite having zero plans to be coming home tonight.

Sam sighs, rolling his eyes, “Fallon, I chose this dress out for you, remember. I know what men like. Now, put your hair up in a half-updo and slip on a pair of nude heels and you’ll be fine.”

Fallon nods, attempting to not overthink this.

She busies herself with her hair first, sitting down at her dresser to style it.

“Why are you so nervous?” Sam asks so casually that it actually annoys her. How can he not understand the gravity of tonight? That it’s her _first_ date with Liam and that is something incredibly important and special. It is also something she really does not want to mess up.

“Because, Sam, what if tonight doesn’t go well? What if I’ve just ruined a relationship I had for four years on a whim just because I have chemistry with a guy who I’ve known for less than two months?” She puts emphasis on that short amount of time, which when she thinks about it, is actually the scariest thing about it all. Falling for Culhane had been slow, very, slow. In fact, they had been sleeping together far before she had ever realised she had any romantic feelings for him. But Liam? She feels _so_ much for him that it scares her to her very core, which means that tonight means way more than a random hook-up. The pressure makes her head spin a little.

“Fallon, remember last week when you, rather explicitly, which I am still not so happy about, told me about that kiss with Liam?”

Her high on paid meds brain must have done that, not her.

She turns, looking him in the eyes.

“I told you about that?”

“Explicitly,” Sam repeats. “But that’s not the point. The point is, it sounded like it was intense and, well, you _certainly_ made it clear that you enjoyed it.” She can’t help but smirk at that, “I mean you’re right, you did throw away a four-year relationship, but there was way more to that than just Liam, and you really have to stop comparing your relationship with him to the one you had with Culhane. So what if you’ve only known Liam for a few weeks? You could have gotten married to him after only knowing him for half an hour, and it wouldn’t matter.”

She scoffs, “That would be ridiculous.”

Sam shrugs, “It happens. What I’m trying to say is that you guys will go at whatever pace suits you. There’s nothing right or wrong about it.”

Fallon lets all of that settle, takes it in. Considers.

He’s right, all of it.

“If I’m honest, I think the real reason I’m freaking out is that I think, well actually, I _hope_ that this will be the last first date I ever have.”

Saying that feels like lifting a heavy weight from her chest, like Sam had given her permission to finally just let herself feel without the judgment of the world getting into her head. She poises, waiting to see Sam’s expression and breathes out a sigh of relief when he smiles, genuinely, and stands to make his way over to her.

“Then, you have to make sure you make the most of it,” Sam points out, dabbing a makeup brush into a container of loose powder, “Including covering over this ugly bruise on your face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you think their first date is going to go?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First date time! This chapter is very explicit.

“Wow,” Fallon mutters under her breath as she steps out of the elevator into Liam’s penthouse apartment, taking in the large open space and the glass windows offering a view of the shining city in the dark. His décor is a mixture of dark wood and marble floors, leather furniture, warm decorative lighting, and guitars lining a whole wall. It’s so _him_ , and yet it also boasts a sophisticated luxury. Liam is so humble at times that she has to remind herself that he is, after all, the son of one of the biggest rock musicians the world has ever known and is also the heir to Van Kirk Industries.

He’s bound to have expensive taste.

Liam chuckles as he takes her coat from her and hangs it up, “I was just about to say the same thing,” he says as he comes round to her front and takes her in, “you look amazing.”

“So do you,” she replies as she glances up at him from under her lashes, he’s in a well-tailored dark grey suit and white shirt, which cuts his figure perfectly. It’s the first time she’s ever seen him look this suave, with his hair slicked back so perfectly and holding himself with such an air of confidence. It makes her heart beat just a little faster to see him looking so dazzlingly good-looking. She saunters towards him, a smirk on her face and fingers at the collar of his shirt, “I could get used to you in a suit.”

“Yeah?” Liam breathes, leaning closer, reducing the space between them, luring her in. He’s good at doing that, not just to her but to everyone that he meets. That natural charisma he has draws people in, and there’s something incredibly appealing about knowing she’s the only one that he truly wants.

“Mhmm,” she returns. They’re only centimetres apart now, Fallon stills, wanting him to be the one to come closer and close the gap.

“Well then, you’re going to have to give me plenty of reasons to wear one,” he whispers, his voice low.

Right now, she’d rather tear it off of him.

But, she relents, playing his teasing game.

“That won’t be a problem.”

Her eyes drop to his mouth, watches as his lips twitch into a smile before forming the word, “Good.” And then he’s stepping away, cool air flowing between them, breaking his spell he has over her. “So, would you like a tour?”

She gawks, incredulous that he’s really taking their little flirting game this far and is resisting kissing her, but when she thinks about it, she realizes that Liam knows precisely what he’s doing. He’s teasing, seeing how long it will take for her to give in.

_Well, two can play at that game._

“Sure,” she offers him a wicked smile in return and takes his offered hand, their fingers lacing together as he takes the lead.

Liam pulls her where she expects, towards the line of guitars on the wall. He explains the origin of each, which tour his Dad had used them, which ones were automatically bestowed upon him when John passed away and which ones he had to fight for from his bandmates to keep.

It’s clear with the level of passion he speaks with that music was the thing that had bonded them, and it reminds her of how that was also true for her and Steven and that along the way, they’d both tragically lost those people. That loss had left the two of them with a hole in their souls, both of them desperately trying everything they could to fill it. Nothing had worked for her, but then she met Liam. And miraculously, he fills it. With every small, kind gesture, every smile he throws her way, every compliment, she feels the abyss in the pit of her stomach shrink slightly.

Ever since he returned that photograph to her, which is now safely tucked away in her purse, he’s been helping her to heal from the grief she never let herself truly process all those years ago.

She looks at him now, his eyes shining with enthusiasm, speaking with as much fervour as you would expect from an art enthusiast decoding the symbolism of Botticelli’s Venus and Mars, and he stirs something in her she’s never felt before. An emotion impossible to pin down, but it’s so strong it springs tears to her eyes.

“ _Oh, he taught me how to play smoke on water on this one when I was a kid, but I accidentally broke pretty much every string. I was so afraid he was going to be mad with me that I found some fishing wire and tried to fix it with that_ – hey, are you okay?” he asks softly after glancing at her, and like always, she suspects he reads her every thought with one look.

The hand intertwined with hers squeezes reassuringly.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m good. I just think it’s great that you have all of _this_ ,” she motions with her free hand at the array of guitars donning the wall, “to remember your Dad by.”

He nods, satisfied with her answer, reading between the lines, “Yeah, it’s good to remember. I mean, I’m not saying our relationship was perfect, trust me, it was far from that, but it was what it was, and this… This was the good stuff. It helps, on the days when you really miss them the most.”

The ‘them’ doesn’t go unnoticed by her, and she smiles tightly, “I look at that photo every day, the one you brought back to me. I never thanked you for that.”

“I didn’t do it for thanks,” he responds.

“No, I know,” she returns, “but I appreciate it, all the same, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Liam throws her a soft smile, his ocean eyes gazing into hers, pulling her in like a current.

“So,” she takes a breath to shake the heavy moment and breaks eye contact to glance back at the guitar, “I’m guessing the fishing wire plan didn’t work out?” She asks, encouraging him to continue with the story.

“Oh god no, my piggy bank took a serious hit that day.”

~

Liam continues with his stories, even showing her family photos he has hung in frames, which she, of course, teases him about, especially where he was sporting a fairly questionable haircut.

Suffering enough torture for one evening, Liam eventually leads her to a table he’s set out, adorned with candles and red roses.

“I should have known you’d go all out on the romance,” Fallon comments as she approaches the table, admiring his endearment.

“Well,” he replies, moving out a chair for her, “I figured that if you can’t go out for a romantic dinner, I could bring it to you.”

_I love you._

She takes an involuntary sharp intake of breath, disguising it as best she can with a smile, and buries that previous thought deep down before she overthinks it, and fear overwhelms her, threatening to ruin this perfect moment.

“That’s very sweet of you,” she leans towards him and plants a kiss on his cheek before taking the offered seat. “You have lipstick on your face now, by the way.”

“Oh, does it suit me?” Liam asks, a cheeky smile on his face, showing off the rouge print of Fallon’s lips on his skin, “is it my color?”

She suppresses a laugh to keep the banter going, “No, it really doesn’t.”

He throws her a disbelieving look, his brows furrowed, “Are you sure?” he asks before taking his phone out of his pocket and uses his front camera to get a look at himself.

“Liar!” He throws her way, then pulls a pouting expression, “this is _so_ my color.”

A laugh escapes her anyway when she hears the camera shutter sound in her ears, “Did you just take a selfie?”

Liam shrugs, locking and slipping his phone back into his trousers pocket, “Yeah, I need a new profile picture.”

Despite rolling her eyes – which is more for show anyway – she has to admit that a part of her adores the idea of the world seeing Liam’s face with the pattern of her lips so vibrantly noticeable there.

It would certainly get people talking, and whilst she usually hates her private life being so public, she can’t shake the thought of everyone knowing that this handsome, charismatic man is off the market. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to fend off random blondes in bars who flirt with him by insinuating that they’re prostitutes.

 _Wow_ , Fallon has no idea how she had managed to convince herself that she had only been protecting him that night when it was so evident that she had been insanely jealous. She mulls that thought over as Liam pours her a glass of white wine, explaining how it is paired perfectly with the dish he made for her tonight, one that his half-Italian Grandmother taught him to cook as a child.

“Alright,” he says, looking at his watch, “it should be ready. Stay right there. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She catches the glint in his eye before he turns, registers how excited he is, and she finds it, quite frankly, _adorable._

_You love him._

“Shut up,” she mutters to herself under her breath once he’s out of sight.

~

Fallon moans, audibly and without conviction.

“ _Oh my god,_ this tastes amazing.”

Liam tries to hide a proud smile behind his fork, but Fallon catches a glimpse of it before he’s back to flirting, “Do you want me to leave you two alone, or?” He gestures between himself and her plate of chicken saltimbocca.

“Yes, leave your plate too, please,” she jokes and laughs out loud when he goes to stand, halting him in his progress when she then says, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You can stay and watch if you like.”

He bursts out laughing, and _god,_ the sound of it is music to her ears – to hear him so carefree and happy, the knowledge she is capable of bringing that level of joy to him makes her feel giddy inside.

Especially after putting him through so much the past few weeks.

The vision of the pain in his eyes before he got into that taxi on the pavement outside the hotel in San Francisco still haunts her – so to hear his laughter now means the world to her. It suggests that maybe she could eventually make up for causing him to feel all of that anguish.

“You are a man of many talents, aren’t you?” She says before taking another bite.

Liam swallows a sip of his wine and raises his eyebrows suggestively, “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

“Oh, trust me, I will,” she throws back, causing his eyes to suddenly widen.

“Uh oh, am I going to scored tonight?”

She shrugs, smiling smugly, “Maybe.”

“Alright, well, if you’re going to do that, then at least tell me how you’re going to score the chicken. But, remember before you do, know that if you offend it, you’re actually offending the memory of Alice Lowden, my late and very dear Grandmother.” He holds his palm flat against his chest for emphasis, making her giggle, and pouts slightly to appear much more innocent than his intentions actually are.

“Okay,” she nods and casts her eyes around the room, looking at nothing in particular, “Alice, if you’re listening, you taught your grandson very well, ten out of ten with this chicken, _molto bella_.”

He smiles, tilting his head subtly to the side and says, “Hey, I didn’t know you knew how to speak Italia-” _Bang._

They both jolt towards the sound – the noise coming from the vicinity of Liam’s kitchen, seemingly out of nowhere.

It sets Fallon on edge immediately.

“What the hell was that?” She asks, fear tinged in her voice, her eyes shifting rapidly, and she isn’t comforted when she glances over at Liam, who has frozen and looks equally as spooked as her.

“Probably just some pans falling over,” he responds eventually, his features softening into amusement when he notices Fallon’s look of shock, “let’s just get back to dinner and stop trying to talk to the ghost of my grandma.”

She gulps, returning her attention to the food in front of her, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

~

They move into his living room after dinner, the fire roaring, keeping the open space warm. Fallon immediately makes a beeline towards Liam’s record collection to the right of his black sofa, believing entirely that a person’s music taste is a direct disclosure of their soul. Of course, you can look at someone’s playlist but their _record_ collection – that’s much more personal.

She smiles as she carefully runs her fingers over the first one on display; it’s aged over time, the once vibrant blue butterflies fluttering around a twisted tree are faded, but otherwise, the artwork is in immaculate condition. It’s evident to her that Liam treasures it by taking good care of the record, but not enough to simply frame it on a wall – it’s used, listened to, appreciated.

This particular album she’d cast her eyes over hundreds of times in her lifetime, taking pride of place in her Father’s study, a personal favorite of his. The vision of it sitting there in her mind causes a sickly sweet feeling of nostalgia to creep up her neck; the hours she had shared with her Dad listening to the songs etched into the grooves of the vinyl in her hands are welcomed, but eerie all at the same time. To think that the composer of the music which bonded them together was created by the Father of the man who has stolen her heart seems an almost impossible coincidence.

And yet, here they are.

“Did he ever tell you what _butterfly daydreams_ is about?” Fallon asks as she turns, watching as he pops the top off a champagne bottle with ease, the sound reverberating in her ears, and he sets about pouring the bubbling liquid into two crystal flutes.

“Yes,” he responds, a small smile playing at his lips as he keeps his eyes on the task at hand, “but what’s your theory?”

It really doesn’t surprise her that he’s making her work for an answer.

“Well, that’s not fair, you already know.”

Liam places the champagne bottle on a marble top table and saunters towards her, his hand outstretched, offering her one of the crystal glasses. She takes it with her free hand, the bubbles still fizzing, escaping the confines of the glass, then falling flat on her fingers as she casts her eyes up to his, wondering what thoughts are racing through his mind to counter-act her point.

“There is no answer, Fallon. That’s the point of music. It could mean one thing to the artist and another to the listener, and as long as they both connect to the words in some way, that’s really all that matters.”

Her heart swells at that sentiment as she takes it in, allows it to ruminate around her mind and settle, “wise words,” she eventually replies. 

He shrugs, “I have my moments. So, I’ll rephrase my question. What does the song mean to _you_?”

Fallon thinks for a moment, trying to place herself back in her Father’s office at the age of 8, singing along to the words, wondering what they had meant. “Well, when I was a kid, I think I took it a little too literally, thinking he had some virus or something, and then when it was finally cured, he wanted it back, which was pretty confusing for a child.”

Liam lets out a soft laugh, not mockingly, but warmly, “and now?” He asks before taking a sip of his champagne.

“Now, I’m not sure.”

His blue-grey eyes assess her for a moment, and she catches the instant an idea comes to him, a slightly mischievous grin forming on his face, and he wordlessly takes Fallon’s glass back out of her hands and places it on the table, next to the record player along with his own. “Here,” he says, holding his palm out flat, gesturing to her to pass him the record.

She raises a quizzical brow at him but passes it over nonetheless, intrigued about where this is going.

Ever so carefully, Liam slips the vinyl disk from its sleeve and places it on the player, flicks the switch to command the turntable to spin, lifts the needle and sets it at the very edge of the record, the speaker emitting a familiar popping sound once it falls on the disk.

Then he turns to her with a glint in his eyes, his arms outstretched in offering, and catches her off guard by asking, “dance with me?”

Clearly, her subconscious is taking the lead as before she knows it, she’s stepping into his arms without hesitation, her smaller hand sliding into his, his other hand settling on her waist whilst she places hers on his shoulder. Suddenly, they’re breathing in each other’s air, their eyes boring into each other’s, and she thinks he’s about to kiss her until Liam breaks eye contact just as the song begins to play.

He leans in close enough for his breath to tickle her ear when he whispers, “listen to the words.”

They remain in that close position, with her chin on his shoulder, breathing in his cologne as she sways to the music in effortless tandem with his body.

Her eyes close to allow her to focus as she listens carefully as the husky, soulful voice of John Lowden fills the room.

_Heard of this sickness before,_

_Thought it was a fools disease,_

_Didn’t expect to fall,_

_It’s got me on my knees,_

_I’m sweatin’ in the night,_

_The fever’s burnin’ too bright,_

_I’m haunted in the dark,_

_And I’m haunted in stark daylight,_

_Butterfly daydreams,_

_Fragment my thoughts,_

_When I think I’m making progress,_

_You shatter them at once,_

_Butterfly daydreams,_

_I can’t see through the haze,_

_They terrorize my shelter,_

_And I’m crazy for days,_

_If there’s a cure let me know,_

_‘cause I can’t stand this no more,_

_I’m going out of my mind,_

_Trying to make sense of it all,_

_Tell me, tell me,_

_Is it here to stay?_

_I’ve seen good men die,_

_Keeping this thing at bay,_

_Butterfly daydreams,_

_Fragment my thoughts,_

_When I think I’m making progress,_

_You shatter them at once,_

_Butterfly daydreams,_

_I can’t see through the haze,_

_They terrorize my shelter,_

_And I’m crazy for days,_

_Oh settle, settle, and I can think for a few,_

_The words tumble from nowhere, reveal that I need you,_

_Then flutter, flutter and the thought goes away,_

_I’m a coward for my silence and not begging you to stay._

It’s like it’s the first time she’s ever heard the song, the words resonating with her in a way they never have before. Anyone who has ever felt the way she feels right now can relate directly to John Lowden in those moments.

“So?” Liam asks, altering his stance slightly to look at her, but they otherwise remain swaying to the music as the next song begins to play.

“Love,” she says breathless, “he didn’t realize he was in love.”

He smiles widely, his eyes crinkling, “Close. There’s a little more to it than that. He told me that he didn’t think he was capable of ever being in love like it was something that happened to other people, not to him, and then he met my Mom, and she flipped his whole world upside down.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

The smirk on his face really does not match the apology.

“No, you’re not,” she accuses. 

“You’re right, I’m not. Because,” Liam drawls the last word out and snakes his arm around so that his hand is now flat on the small of Fallon’s back, pulling her closer to him so that their mouths are only centimetres apart, “it got us _here._ ”

She smiles, her eyes involuntarily glancing down at his lips before flicking back up and noticing him mirroring her. Her smile drops as the moment suddenly feels serious. Liam may have resisted kissing her all night, but not now.

Their eyes flutter closed as they move closer, drawn together like magnets, until they meet in the middle, their lips softly pressing together. Liam takes charge at first, setting a steady rhythm as their mouths move against one another, almost tentatively. It makes Fallon’s heart flutter in her chest, and she can’t help but breathe into the kiss, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek and presses closer. Liam responds enthusiastically to her deepening the kiss, catching her bottom lip between his, sucking, nipping slightly until she grants him access, and their tongues roll together, tasting the champagne lingering there.

Fallon decides resolutely that she _loves_ kissing Liam. It sets her nerve endings alight and makes her head spin in the best way possible. He’s irresistible, which may become a problem with the fact that they work together, but that’s a hurdle she’ll worry about later.

She involuntarily smiles against his lips, breaking the kiss as they part, but they remain in one another’s embrace, their gazes flicking up to look at one another in the soft light.

“I really like where we are,” she croons and relishes in the way Liam’s lips upturn into a sweet smile. She’s confident she will never tire of making this man happy. It fulfils her in ways nothing ever has before.

“As do I,” Liam returns coyly before dropping his arm from Fallon’s back and stepping away slightly, putting space between them. “There’s something I would like to show you if you’re interested?”

Fallon can pick up on his cues, this is something personal, and it makes her a little emotional to think that Liam is willing to share whatever it is with her.

“Of course, I’m interested,” she returns with a smile and watches with admiration how his eyes light up at her reply.

“Alright, bring your drink,” he says as he picks up his own glass and the neck of the bottle in one hand, his other outstretched in invitation. Fallon looks at him curiously before grabbing her champagne flute and placing her free hand in his.

Liam’s fingers wrap around her smaller hand, and she has to admire the way they seem to fit together so perfectly, almost like they are made for each other. He throws her another smile before pulling her through the room, leading her towards the back of the apartment, arriving at a large set of sliding glass doors. He lets go of her hand to pull on the handle and slides them open, revealing a large balcony beyond the threshold.

The first thing Fallon notices is the glorious view, city lights shining on the outdoor space.

It’s adorned with furniture and low hanging lights, which cast a yellow glow around the place, making it feel homely and warm – despite the cold autumn air.

Fallon lets her curiosity lead her around the balcony while Liam sets about placing the champagne on a high table near the edge and turns on an outdoor heater.

Eventually, she comes to a halt, leaning against the banister to admire the night-time city view.

“Here,” Liam says, moments before she feels him slip his jacket over her shoulders, providing another layer of comforting warmth. Fallon smiles back at him, suddenly overwhelmed with his scent, which clings to the item of clothing. This is a smell she has grown to associate only with Liam, strong and masculine, but with a citrus edge, a sweetness – quite like his personality.

“Well, now _you’ll_ be cold,” Fallon comments flirtatiously.

Liam grins back, picking up his champagne glass as he moves closer, “Will you be kind enough to share some body heat?” He asks, a glint in his eye, and it makes Fallon smile widely.

“More than happy to,” she responds, allowing Liam to slip his arm around her back, joining her at her side. They fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, his palm settling on her hip, and she rests her head against his shoulder, savoring the moment.

“There’s still something that I don’t understand,” Fallon admits, her thoughts still focused on John’s song.

“Really?” Liam asks, sounding surprised, “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

“Haha,” she mocks, rolling her eyes.

Liam chuckles briefly, squeezing her tighter, “Okay, go on, then, tell me what you don’t understand.”

“The song,” she begins, “has a sad ending, and yet, if it’s about your Mom, then _obviously_ things worked out.”

“Mmhmm,” Liam replies.

“So...?” She asks, drawing out the vowel to the word, looking up at him, her eyebrow raised in anticipation.

“So?” Liam repeats back to her.

“So, what happened? How did they end up together?” Fallon demands and watches as Liam’s lips turn up into a smirk as he gazes out at the view.

“Well,” he begins, taking a deep breath, “it took losing her for him to realize everything. He wrote her the song and found out where she would be,” he chuckles before turning to look her in the eyes, “she was on a date. He turned up, pretended to be the opening act for the band that was supposed to be playing that night.”

Fallon lets out a breathy laugh at the story, “That sounds like something I would do.”

Liam nods, “Oh yeah, you and my Father would have gotten along just fine.”

She smiles at that thought despite the sadness growing in her chest.

So would Liam and Steven.

“Then what happened?” She asks, encouraging Liam to continue the story so that she can distract her thoughts away from what will never be.

“He played her the song, and then she kissed him.”

Her eyes widen instantly, her thoughts immediately going to last week and how they’d mirrored that same story in the studio.

“No way.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what happened,” Liam says, his gaze soft, “cross my heart.”

Fallon shakes her head in disbelief at the coincidence, “So that trick runs in the family, then?”

Liam’s lips curve upwards into a bright smile, the hand on her hip squeezing playfully, “Clearly.”

“Alright,” she concedes, taking a sip of her champagne, “well, at least that’s a happier ending than what the song makes it seem.”

He’s quiet for a moment, breathing out with a rough sigh before continuing, “If only that were the ending.”

Fallon’s heart sinks.

 _Of course._ It can’t be considered the ending, can it? Not when she knows John passed away, leaving them both.

She turns in his arms, gazing at him with sincerity, “Oh god, Liam, I’m sorry...”

He shakes his head, “Hey, hey, hey, Fallon... No. It’s okay, seriously,” a hand strokes through her hair, causing a pleasant tingle at her scalp, calming her. “Besides,” he continues, “what ending _is_ happy?”

Fallon shrugs at that, “Well, lots of them. Have you never seen The Notebook?”

Liam hesitates for a moment, taking a drink from his glass before smiling slyly at her, “...No.”

She gasps, “How have you never seen The Notebook?!”

“I was waiting for you to watch it with me,” he responds, throwing her a cheeky grin.

“Cute.”

He laughs slightly, pulling her to him so that her head is leaning against his, “We’ll add it to the list,” he promises.

Fallon can’t help but smile at that. Those many nights they’ve spent curled up on their own sofas watching movies while on the phone seems so long ago now. Yet, in reality, it was only a few weeks ago. Now she imagines them, unafraid of what will happen if the two of them are together, alone.

Speaking of which.

“Liam?”

“Mhmm?”

She chews her lip, anxiety clenching her guts slightly as she thinks about the possibilities of the answers he might give to her burning question. It could go two ways, but she _needs_ to know.

“I found your SoundCloud account.”

He tenses for a fraction of a second, the muscles wrapped around her form going rigid. “Um,” he clears his throat, “when?”

“Just before we went to San Francisco,” she responds, glancing at him to gauge his expression.

He’s quite well guarded, but she can recognize a glistening in his eyes that gives her a dash of hope.

“Thoughts?” He asks, clearly delaying the inevitable.

“I mean, I’ve heard most of the songs before,” she comments nonchalantly and feels his body relax slightly until she continues, “except for one.” His eyes dart to her, making contact, but he otherwise remains silent, coaxing her into continuing. “It’s a good song. Did you write it recently?”

“Yes, very recently, in fact,” he answers, and Fallon can feel the nervous energy radiating from him. Yet, she feels flooded with relief, a spark of hope igniting within her.

“When you say recently... _How_ recent are we talking?” She enquires.

“Uh...” He begins, glancing down momentarily to collect his thoughts, and Fallon notices the tips of his ears transitioning to a deep red, a tell he’s flustered. “About 3 weeks ago.”

She nods and downs the rest of her drink, the alcohol giving her a pleasant buzz, providing the courage she needs to be bold. “I want to put it on the album.”

“Sure,” Liam agrees, still acting coy.

“Well, that is, under one condition.”

“And what would that be?” He asks curiously, looking her in the eyes.

She smiles, tilting her chin up defiantly, “As long as the song is about me.”

A smile slowly spreads on Liam’s features as he looks at her, the traces of worry lines on his forehead vanishing in an instant, “Fallon, of _course,_ the song is about you.”

Her face mirrors his expression, feeling her cheeks warming at his confession.

“Sing it for me?” She asks, leaning against the railing to give him some space.

“Right now?” She hums, nodding in confirmation. He quirks a brow, “Alright.”

His smile transforms into a smirk, his gaze turning almost predatory before he opens his mouth, and that low, raspy voice fills her ears, giving her chills all over her body.

_Oh, Momma, I got myself caught up in something bad_

_There’s something I want so much that it’s driving me mad_

_How have I let something like this get such a hold on me?_

_I’m not a religious man, but she’s got me praying for my sanity_

He walks towards her, crowding her, so close she can feel his heat. Her heart rate picks up, racing in her chest as he brings a hand up to delicately caress her cheek.

_Don’t be judgemental, trust me I’m stronger than you_

_If you were me, I promise you’d be under her spell too_

_You see, ever since we met, which kind of seems fated_

_I listen to you speak but my minds imagining you naked_

His thumb runs over her bottom lip, his eyes full of burning desire, and it feels like he pulls the air straight out of her lungs.

_Excuse me_

_And my corrupted mind_

_I’ll keep it all hidden_

_A secret you’ll never find_

_Promise not to touch_

_Unless you ask me to_

_I’ve gotta admit one thing to you darling_

_Oh_

_I really, really do_

_I really wanna do bad things with you_

Fallon places her finger on his lips, stopping him from singing the next lines, and moves closer to him, her body pressing against his when she whispers in his ear, “touch me, Liam. Do every little bad thing you want to do to me.”

~

They stumble into his bedroom, all fumbling hands, undressing, feeling, touching. Their kisses are uncoordinated, giggling between soft presses of lips, champagne bubbles still fizzing in their heads, giddy. 

She kicks off her heels, now having to lean up to reach him, her arms around his neck to pull him in. It’s all exploring hands, never settling in one spot.

It’s like they’re two best friends that have been secretly in love with each other for years who finally admit their feelings, _finally_ take the plunge. It’s happy, light, funny almost.

And then suddenly, it’s not.

As Fallon’s dress hits the floor and she leans into him, their skin making more contact than it ever has before, Liam already only in his boxer shorts, his shirt undone, hanging off his shoulders, the atmosphere shifts as the gravity of the situations comes crashing down on them.

She looks into his eyes, sees the intensity of his dark stare, knowing she’s mirroring his gaze, and everything feels charged, like the anticipatory second before the first bolt of lightning in a storm.

Everything feels like it has been building up to this moment, the flame burning away at a slow and steady pace, sitting beneath the surface, tempting her constantly, only sampling what it was like to let it burn her with those few kisses they’ve shared and now it roars into life.

She’s felt desire before, of course she has, but this is different. It is a need, pure and simple, to intertwine not just their bodies but their souls. It feels like she was put on this earth to do just that.

They breathe heavily in the space between them, hungry glances being exchanged, lips parted, swollen, waiting for one of them to make the first move.

The thunder rumbles, the lightning strikes.

Their lips meet in a bruising, electric kiss.

They’re skilful now, determined. Fallon pushes the shirt from Liam’s shoulders before carding her fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss as they turn desperate and hungry for one another.

Their warm breaths mingle as their lips part, their tongues exploring while Liam pulls her towards the bed, his hands on the small of her back, travelling lower until eventually, they’re groping over her ass. A small whine escapes her as he squeezes gently, the knowledge that he wants her so badly fuelling her own desires.

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this genuinely wanted.

They come to a stop once the back of Liam’s legs hit the mattress, and Fallon doesn’t really know what comes over her when she breaks the kiss, places her palms on his chest, and pushes him down onto the bed. Except, what she doesn’t expect is for him to grab her hand, making her yelp out in surprise as he pulls her with him, landing on top of his body.

His hands are on her instantly, travelling over her sides, and she looks down at him, seeing the mischievous dazzle in his ocean eyes.

“You’re really proud of yourself for that, aren’t you?” She asks, seeing him smirk up at her.

“Yes, I am,” he admits, his voice low and raspy, “let’s just say that you’re coming with me from now on.”

She lets out a chuckle before capturing his lips again, shutting him up. Yet, she has no plans to let him get away with that quite so easily.

Their kiss becomes heated quickly, Liam nipping at her bottom lip, his impatience becoming known, and it’s the perfect opportunity for Fallon to carry out the plan in her mind.

Pulling away from his kiss, she quickly attaches her lips to his neck, sucking hard on the skin there, intent on making her mark. She alternates between lapping at him with her tongue and nipping sharply, making Liam moan low in his throat. The sound is intoxicating and addictive. She feels a strong impulse to do everything in her power to hear that sound again.

After worrying the skin some more, finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate with Liam’s wandering hands unhooking her bra and throwing it carelessly across the room, she eventually pulls back to admire her handiwork. A stark purple bruise sits there, contrasting with his ivory skin, and she can’t help but run her thumb over it, a small smirk playing at her lips which Liam notices.

“Want everyone to know I’m yours?” He asks, meeting her eyes.

“Precisely,” she responds, “no more flirting with girls in bars, Mr Ridley.” She leans back down, licking a stripe over the shell of his ear, nibbling slightly on the lobe before whispering in his ear, “Unless that girl is me.”

He turns his head at that before suddenly pouncing, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. Fallon gets the memo. She’s his only now.

His fingers dance down her bare back as their tongue meet, rolling against one another, and Fallon finds herself imitating the motion with her hips. Her core slides steadily against Liam’s, making them simultaneously moan into one another’s mouths as she feels his growing hardness against her own bundle of nerves, and it causes a delicious shiver to run down her spine.

Her thoughts quickly become cloudy and heavy with lust, a primal desire within her to bring pleasure to the man pinned below her, who she knows deep down inside she has fallen head over heels in love with.

If everything crashes and burns, Fallon needs to know that tonight, she’s done all she can to show Liam just how much she truly appreciates him.

She pulls away from his lips, her head swimming from the lack of oxygen, and bends to pepper kisses across his jaw, moving down to his neck, eventually reaching his chest. Her instincts take over as she runs her hands over his muscles, appreciating the way they dip so perfectly. It reminds her of the first moment they’d met, how she’d caught a glimpse of him topless and had stared, her eyes wide, now she gets to touch and feel.

She notices a freckle on his pecks, something small and personal about the body she is finally allowed to explore, and places a gentle kiss there. Every little detail about him is precious, from the way his body is mapped out to the way his breathing changes every time she presses her lips against his skin.

Her body shifts down his, fitting between his legs, and continues her journey down. She runs her tongue flat over his abdomen, pulling another erotic groan from him, and only stops when she reaches the waistband of his boxers. Her eyes flick up, meeting his as she hovers over his visibly hardened bulge, and she can see the need he has reflected back in his gaze. She takes it as permission to continue.

Her finger teasingly strokes over the outline of his cock, feeling him twitch involuntary underneath her touch, giving her a sense of victory.

She palms over him, squeezing over his tip, cupping his balls, making him squirm.

“Fallon-” he breathes out desperately, clearly needing more.

“Shhh,” she says, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and off of him to free his straining cock, “just relax, I’m going to make you feel good.”

Fallon glances down at him, biting her lip as he rests his head against the pillows. Just like the rest of him, of course, his cock is gorgeous, straining against his stomach, pink at the tip. Fallon notices a small drop of precum and is overcome with the will to taste him, taking his length into her palm, pumping a few times to hear Liam’s breathing stifle before bending to tease his tip with her tongue. The salty taste hits her instantly, and she laps at the slit, her fingers moving up and down him at the same time, making him hiss at the sensation.

Her lips wrap around him completely, her pink lipstick transferring onto him and sucks gently, testing how Liam reacts. With the way his hips rise slightly, slipping his cock further into her mouth, she figures he likes it. She also guesses he wants to go deeper, which she is more than willing to do for him, descending on his cock, feeling his tip hit the back of her throat.

 _“Fuck,”_ he breathes out, his eyelids squeezing shut, and she can tell he’s restraining from moving, likely craving to fuck her mouth.

 _All in good time_ , she thinks.

Fallon swallows around him before lifting off again, taking him back into her hand, and places a kiss at his sensitive tip.

“What do you like?” She asks, looking up at him.

His eyes open, blue meeting blue, “Exactly what you’re doing, baby.”

She grins. How is it possible that she used to _hate_ it when Culhane called her that, and yet that term of endearment on Liam’s lips fills her with warmth? It’s because it’s _him,_ she decides. Someone she is proud of having by her side.

Granting his wishes, she returns to wrapping her lips around him and bobbing her head, taking him in deep, keeping her tongue flat against his underside. Her fingers stay at his base, going slow at first, dipping her head, swallowing, coming back up for air, squeezing his balls, repeating, pulling low groans from his throat with each experimental touch. She takes her time, spending minutes attentive to his every need, figuring out how he works, like a puzzle that needs to be solved.

His fingers tangle in her hair, knowing when he tugs slightly that she’s doing something he particularly enjoys, and stores that information away for later use. Fallon plans to learn every technique that brings this man pleasure as quickly as possible.

When she eventually picks up speed, his breathing increasing, his chest rising and falling quickly, he shudders below her before he gently tugs on her hair, attempting to gain her attention, “Fal, Fallon, come here.”

Her eyes flick up to meet his dark ones, his pupils blown completely wide, his hair wrecked. He looks glorious.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he repeats, pulling on her body to indicate what he wants.

She pulls her lips off of his spit-slicked cock, making an obscene _pop_ as she does, and grins at him slyly before acquiescing to his request. Slowly, she crawls her way up to his body, straddling his hips, and leans down over him, their faces inches apart.

“No, you need to come up here more,” Liam says as he pats her ass cheeks, pushing her gently so that she is sitting on his abdomen instead. She’s a little confused, considering her next plans were to ride him into oblivion, and she _had_ been in the perfect position to do just that. Still, her curious nature gets the better of her, wanting to see what Liam’s next plans are.

“Is this close enough?” She asks flirtatiously, pressing her naked breasts against his chest, stimulating her already hardening nipples.

“Still no,” he says, “come on, further up.”

Fallon throws him a questioning look but does as he says, finding herself now straddled over his chest, peering down to see him smirking up at her as he runs his hands up her bare thighs. The touch feels so light and intimate that she finds her breath catching in her throat, unable to flirt back with him. Instead, she closes her eyes, getting lost in the sensation of his fingers edging closer to her most sensitive area. His thumb presses against her clothed core, directly over her clit, making her gasp out at the sudden pleasure pooling in her stomach. When he begins to rub circles there, the material of her lace panties rubbing against her pleasantly, her hands reach out, grasping onto his dark wooden headboard for purchase. 

_“Mmff_ \- _oh god,”_ she gasps out when his devilish fingers pull her panties to the side, continuing to run over her sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting an intense pleasure.

Liam takes her completely by surprise when instead of continuing, he shuffles his body down the bed, his head no longer on the pillows. He stops when he's directly underneath her core, his hands holding her ass cheeks, keeping her hovering over him. It all happens so quickly that her already lust-fuelled and foggy brain takes a while to comprehend the movement, not truly understanding what he’s doing until he leans up and laps at her entrance.

She sucks in a sharp, surprised breath, her fingers clenching around the top of the headboard, her eyes squeezing shut at the sudden bolt of pleasure. 

_“Liam,”_ she moans out and swears she feels him grin against her core, his stubble scraping across her inner thighs at the movement. He licks his way through her folds, travelling up so that he can press his lips against her clit and sucks, hard, making her moan out loudly.

“God, you taste amazing,” he mumbles before rapidly flicking his tongue against her clit.

 _“That feels so good,”_ she pants, whimpering when his tongue enters her, going as deep as he can. Liam doesn’t hold back, his jaw moving with determination as he laps and sucks, quickly turning Fallon into a mess of moans and whines. Thoughts, reservations, insecurities, they all melt away in an instant. She’s exactly where she should be right now, in Liam’s arms, trusting him with her body completely.

His strong hands grasp at her hips, and he encourages her to grind them in small, brisk movements against his mouth. She catches on quickly, finding a satisfying pace that causes a delicious friction at her core. Now that she has control, she already begins to feel her orgasm on the horizon and throws her head back, her long curls tickling at her back. They stay like that for minutes, Fallon’s resolve crumbling with every thrust of her hips, every time his tongue teases at her entrance.

Eventually, Liam’s hands travel, snaking up from her hips to cupping her breasts, and she pries one hand from the headboard, running over his as he teases her tender nipples.

 _“Oh fuck,”_ her fingernails dig into his skin as the pleasure begins to steadily spike, the walls of her vagina clenching tightly, _“I’m gonna cum...”_

Her hips speed up, and Liam practically ravishes her with his tongue, sucking forcefully against her clit, making her scream. Her hand goes to his hair, scrunching the dirty blonde strands into her palm, using it as a tether to him.

 _“Liam, Liam, Liam,”_ she chants, his name falling so organically from her lips as the pleasure peaks, and she tenses, falling over the edge, whimpering as he works her through her orgasm, her thighs trembling.

As the sensation ebbs away, she practically collapses, landing next to him on the mattress on her back, panting.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers, wide-eyed as she stares at the ceiling in disbelief.

She distantly registers the sound of Liam chuckling softly next to her, “You okay?” He asks, moving a strand of her hair out of her face, carefully caressing a finger down her cheek.

She bursts out into a fit of giggles as dopamine hits her brain, turning towards Liam, “I am _more_ than okay,” she manages to get out, seeing him grin at her in response, seemingly amused by her sudden bout of giggles. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

“I think,” Liam begins, “and correct me if I am wrong here, but I think, Fallon, it’s because you are _happy._ ”

Her laughter recedes into a smile as she looks up at him, his words hitting her hard, sobering her, the moment turning serious again.

“You have no idea...” She begins and brings a hand up to cup his face, her thumb caressing his cheekbone, “you have no idea how insanely happy I am right now.”

Liam moves towards her, pressing his forehead against hers so that they’re sharing the same air source, “I think I do,” he returns, and Fallon feels her heart swell.

They stay like that for a peaceful moment, both getting their breaths back, drinking one another in.

“Come here,” Fallon says eventually, pulling Liam to shift so that he’s nestled in the cradle of her hips, his hands either side of her head, keeping him hovering over her.

There’s so much skin-on-skin contact that it makes her whole body tingle pleasantly, her fingers tracing up Liam’s spine, the atmosphere becoming charged, sensual.

“You’re so beautiful,” Liam says softly as he looks down at her with so much sincerity in his blue eyes that it makes her heart squeeze in her chest at his admission.

_Beautiful._

That’s not a word that she associates with herself.

It was always ‘hot, sexy, gorgeous,' with Culhane, not _beautiful_.

Fallon brings her hands up to rest against the back of Liam’s neck, her fingers intertwining, and looks up into his eyes.

Her heart rate picks up, feeling like Liam can literally read her like an open book, and she is terrified that if he does, he might not like what he finds.

But she has to fight against that. She can’t just run away, not from him. So, she takes a deep, shuddering breath in to calm her nerves.

“Make love to me?” She asks, petrified by being so open and vulnerable, but Liam instantly quietens her fears, kissing her forehead tenderly, careful to avoid the cut above her eyebrow.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he whispers back and captures her lips before she has the chance to respond.

She presses eagerly into the kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, a reminder of their previous, glorious activities.

Liam breaks the kiss to nuzzle at her neck before kissing his way down her sternum, and she squirms once he reaches her stomach, an involuntary reaction, gasping out.

_Oh no._

He smirks, looking up at her.

“Are you a little ticklish, Fallon?” He asks, his voice gravelly.

“ _Maybe_ ,” she returns, “but don’t look so smug. I’ll find all your spots too.”

His grin widens at that, his brows raising, “Good to know.”

His head dips again as he shuffles further down the bed, his hand settling underneath her knee and slowly kisses his way down her inner thigh. His stubble scratches as he makes his way steadily towards her core, and it only adds to the sensation, making her chew her bottom lip in anticipation.

Eventually, he makes it close to her center, breathing hotly over her, making her squirm.

“You are so wet, Fallon, these panties are _wrecked,_ ” Liam comments, “let’s get them off of you.”

He looks up at her, meeting her gaze when he takes the elastic between his teeth and pulls, bringing them down. She has the sense to plant her feet on the mattress to lift her hips, aiding him with his efforts, feeling him tug the lacy fabric down her calves, and eventually all the way off.

He’s so delicate with her, so gentle, and yet he’s firm all at the same time. It takes some getting used to, having never had a lover like this before. She’s never felt _cherished_ before.

Liam makes his way back to her, crawling over her form, and she smiles up at him once he’s there, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek.

She may not be able to say out loud that she is in love with him right now, but she hopes her actions can speak for her.

“Is that better?” He enquires, and she nods her confirmation, bringing her hand round to the back of his head and pulling him down to her lips to show her appreciation.

The fire roars back to life as they fumble, the kiss desperate, stealing one another’s air, Liam’s hands roaming to her breast, teasing. She runs her fingernails down his back slightly, just enough to be between the verge of pain and pleasure. They shift, and Liam’s hard member rubs across her incredibly sensitive core, making her whine out, craving the feel of him. Enough foreplay, she decides. She needs him, _now._

“Condom?” She asks against his lips once they break for air. She’s clean, she knows that for sure after getting tested recently, but she’s also halfway through her cycle and doesn’t fancy getting pregnant quite so soon into their relationship.

“Top draw,” he says, panting slightly, gesturing with his head to the right-hand side.

Fallon reaches out, pulling open the draw, and fumbles around, her fingers eventually landing on a foil packet, and she pulls it out in victory.

Fallon's spare hand reaches down to curl her fingers around his member, feeling the heavy weight of it in her palm. He’s waited _so_ patiently, putting her needs above his. She can’t help but feel over him, giving him feather-light touches with the pads of her fingers before pumping him all the way from the base to the tip, swiping her thumb over the slit.

 _“Ah, Fal, babe,”_ he whispers in caution, almost buckling at the sensation.

“Sorry,” she returns, “Mommy just wanted to play.”

He smirks down at her, “Well, Mommy can play later, right now, Daddy has somewhere he needs to be.”

She breaths out a laugh before bringing the foil packet between her teeth, tearing it open, and pulls out the latex, rolling it onto him in one swift movement.

Using his hand, he guides himself to rub between her folds, his tip running over her clit as he thrusts a few times, making her gasp out at the sensation.

 _“Liam,”_ she whines, her core practically throbbing with need, _“come on.”_

Finally, he lines himself up with her entrance, pausing, teasing slightly. She swears she is seconds away from flipping them over so that she can take control when he pushes into her, and she’s still so sensitive from her first orgasm that the feeling is pure pleasure sparking underneath her skin, setting her nerve endings on fire.

They moan simultaneously, low and satisfied, as Liam’s cock breaches her walls, sliding in like she was made for him.

She looks up into his eyes, and they don’t have to say a word to know; this feels indescribably _perfect._

Once he’s fully seated inside of her, Liam bends, placing erotic kisses against her neck, staying still to allow Fallon to adjust to his size. She sighs happily, elongating her neck to give him better access.

“I wanna make you feel good, Fallon,” he whispers into her ear, “tell me what you need, okay?”

“Hmm,” she hums back in contentment, “I need you to move.”

She feels him smile against her skin before pressing a final kiss against her temple and finding her hand, intertwining their fingers on the pillow by the side of her head. Fallon squeezes, turning her head, bringing his hand to her lips to kiss the back of his palm, groaning as Liam pulls out torturously slowly.

 _“Oh,”_ Fallon throws her head back, squeezing Liam’s hand as he rolls his hips, pushing back in, and she feels him caressing her with his thumb.

 _“Yes, Liam,”_ she moans out as he sets a steady, slow, but satisfying pace. Using her free hand, she runs it up to Liam’s bicep, her fingernails digging into the flesh when he unexpectedly stirs inside of her, making her gasp out loud. He swallows the sound, bending down to slot their mouth together, and Fallon leans up into him, her back arching as he drives into her.

This is a thousand times better than any dream she could conjure up.

“You feel amazing,” he mutters against her lips, and she runs her fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as he snaps his hips.

“So do you,” she whispers back, pressing a few more sporadic kisses to his lips before burying her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

It takes her back to that first night they met, how that free spirit she saw in this man allured her so much. From that first meeting, she should have known that they would end up like this, connected in the most intimate way possible. It was practically fated.

She throws a leg over his hips, pulling him in deeper, them both sighing in pleasure as he thrusts into her at this new angle, stimulating her G-Spot. For a long time, they maintain that rhythm, pressing hot kisses wherever they can find skin, whisper sweet nothings to one another, getting completely and utterly lost.

Fallon’s orgasm slowly begins to build with every push, every stir inside of her, and when Liam tactically pulls almost all the way out and thrusts back in firmly, she feels it in every cell of her being.

“Oh, you’re definitely going to have to do that again,” she purrs.

“Yeah?” He pants, “How about...” Liam takes her by surprise, running his hand up her thigh before hooking the arm he uses to hold himself up under her knee, pushing it towards her body. “This?” He pushes back in with force, hitting her at a new angle, making her walls clench around him.

 _“Oh my god, right there, don’t stop,”_ she begs, throwing her head back, her back arching up into him as he increases the speed, her own hips moving to match his rhythm. Her hands scramble for purchase, clutching onto his shoulders, moving into his hair.

She’s never had sex like this before, _ever_. It feels like they’re baring their souls as they map one another’s bodies, learning, remembering. Usually, this kind of vulnerability would have her running for the hills, but she feels safe in his arms. She doesn’t feel like she has to hide.

 _“Liam,”_ She moans as the pleasure peaks, _“Liam, I’m close...”_

“It’s okay, Fallon, I’ve got you,” Liam returns, his voice sounding wrecked, and travels his hand down to her core, rubbing circles against her swollen clit, making her cry out as the pleasure doubles.

The second she hears Liam moan lowly, she succums to her own desires, letting the sensations overcome her, letting go. She cries, Liam’s name on her lips as her walls clench around him, and she swears she sees stars.

Liam doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, working her through her high, and she has the sudden urge to bring him the same pleasure, suddenly flipping them so that she’s seated on top of him.

Fallon smirks down at him when she sees the surprised look on his face before sinking down, moaning as she still feels ripples of pleasure from her own orgasm. She repeats the action, fast, quick movements, and grabs his hands, placing them on her breasts before planting hers on his chest.

“Come on, Liam,” she pants, “cum for me.”

_“Fallon-”_

He thrusts up into her, grabbing onto her hips, and she knows the moment he lets go when his movements become uncoordinated, groaning out her name again. Yet, she continues relentlessly riding him, drawing out his orgasm like he had done for her, his eyes squeezing shut, lost in pleasure.

“God, you’re so fucking amazing,” he says as his eyes open again, looking up at her and wills her to slow, using his strength to keep her still.

Fallon lets out a shaky breath, smiling down at him. She feels weightless, her brain all fuzzy, and leans down to capture his lips, feeling him kiss her back tenderly.

His arms move around her, holding her close as he shifts them so that they’re lying on their sides, and he pulls out of her, making her whimper at the sensation.

“Give me a sec,” he whispers, disappearing momentarily to discard the condom, but is back in a flash, pulling her into his arms.

Fallon settles against his chest, looking up into his eyes, and knows she’s probably smiling like an idiot. She doesn’t care.

“Hi,” he says, pulling his sheets over her bare form to keep her warm.

“Hi,” she returns, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “That was _beyond,”_ she admits, seeing his eyes dazzle at her words.

“Turns out we make a pretty good team doing _any_ activities, huh?” He asks, drawing a giggle from her.

“So, is that what you had in mind when you wrote that song?” She asks, watching him let out a chuckle.

“Oh sweetheart, there is _so_ much more that I want to do to you than just _that_.”

She smirks, leaning forwards, inches from his lips, “Do you promise to show me?”

Liam smiles, tucking an errant strand of her hair behind her ear before taking hold of her chin to steer her towards his mouth, “I promise,” he whispers before crashing their lips together.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallon buys a record company and Liam has to write a new song. Fallon helps him, in unexpected ways.

Warmth, comfort, _happiness._

That's exactly how it feels waking up in Liam Ridley's arms.

It's a moment that Fallon swears she is never going to forget.

Her whole body is relaxed, tangled with his, her head comfortably resting on his chest, hearing the gentle thrumming of his heartbeat like a metronome.

The first thoughts that drift into her mind are memories of last night, how perfect that date was. The food, the dancing, the way they opened up to one another, and of course – the sex. The _glorious_ sex. She's still tingling down there, her body likely reacting to Liam in such close proximity, craving more.

_Leaving this bed is going to be an issue._

Liam shifts, his arm wrapped around her mid-section flexes slightly as if he is trying to hold her closer and protect her from an unseen evil, and it jolts her into reality.

The more Fallon comes to her senses, the more she realizes that Liam is awake, his breathing is too shallow for sleep, plus his fingers begin drawing idle circles on her skin. Not wanting to miss a moment with him, she forces herself to fully wake, her eyes fluttering open, taking in her surroundings, and looks up to meet his gaze.

"Hi," she says softly, noticing his jaw is tense, and his gaze is sharp as he looks off into the distance, seemingly plagued by something on his mind.

Until he notices she's awake.

Liam's mouth quirks into a faint smile, and he sweeps her hair back from her forehead, careful not to touch the cut above her eyebrow, "Good morning, beautiful," he says, his voice deeper than usual, an obvious result of sleep.

She leans forwards, capturing his lips in a soft peck, humming as he strokes his fingers up her naked back, leaving a tingling sensation in his wake.

There's no doubt in her mind that if she can wake up like this every morning from now on, she will be irrevocably happy.

Once she pulls back, she rests her head against his chest again, closing her eyes to take in the moment.

"You okay?" Fallon asks, concern etched in her voice, unable to shake the feeling that something is wrong.

" _I_ am. It's you that I'm worried about."

She recoils slightly, throwing him a confused expression, "What? Why?"

He sighs, and she sees his gaze flick up to where her injury is, "Your makeup was hiding that bruise pretty well," he explains, making her heart thud in her chest.

 _Of course,_ her makeup likely rubbed off overnight, and now he can see the full extent of her injuries.

"Liam..." She begins but isn't sure where she is going. They've had this conversation already.

"Are you _sure_ I can't just punch him in the face? Just once? That's all I'm asking."

Fallon breathes out a laugh, shaking her head before reaching up to comb her fingers through his messy dirty-blonde strands, "He isn't worth a single hair on your pretty head."

He blushes, looking away momentarily with a smile, "Well, instead then, I'm just going to promise that I'll never let him hurt you again."

"I know you won't," Fallon returns before running her fingers over his bare chest, "in the meantime, however, I do have one suggestion that will help..." She bats her eyelashes at him, smiling seductively.

"Oh?" He asks, his eyebrows raising slightly in interest, "and what would that be?"

She leans forwards, merely a few inches from his lips, "make me forget he ever existed."

Liam smirks, inching closer, "now _that..."_ Without warning, he flips them, taking her by surprise when she finds herself with her head against the pillow and Liam's weight on top of her, "I can do."

A small giggle escapes her as she looks up at him, "Okay, well, do it quickly because we have a lot of work to do in the studio."

Liam rolls his eyes, "You’re thinking about work at a time like _this?”_ He asks before rolling his hips, allowing her to feel his morning hard-on against her centre, making her bite her lip, moaning at the feeling.

“Well, _now_ I’m not,” she responds right before he descends onto her neck, placing hot kisses there.

“Oh, good,” he replies between kisses, “because with what I plan to do to you... We’re going to be a little late.”

~

“Liam?” Fallon calls to him across the studio, turning her head to see him engrossed in his task on a laptop.

“Yeah, babe?” He replies, hardly paying any attention, his fingers still tapping away furiously at the keys.

“I need you to come over here and listen to this,” she returns, motioning with her head once he pries himself from his screen.

It’s ‘Glad You’re Gone’, the song they’ve spent weeks perfecting, painstakingly recreating from scratch... And Fallon’s almost certain it’s ready. Except, she can’t be sure of that without Liam’s approval, which sets a bout of anxiety in her gut. Especially considering this is the _first_ song she’s ever produced solo and not only _that,_ it’s _Liam’s_ song. She needs to make sure she does it justice before setting it free for the world to hear, and that means that it _has_ to be perfect.

Liam makes his way over, sitting in the chair to her side and takes the offered headphones from her hand, shooting her a glance. His charisma isn’t going to work on her now. If he says even the littlest thing needs tweaking, then that means her intuition is off and that she isn’t ready for this. Failure isn’t something she is used to.

Once the headphones are in position and Liam gives her the signal, her fingers hover over the mouse, and she nervously presses play.

Right from the first second the song starts, Fallon watches him intensely, holding her breath, searching for visual cues from him that he’s either happy or unhappy with the final arrangement. Much to her disappointment, his expression remains unreadable, and Fallon swears it’s the longest 3 and a half minutes of her life.

 _Finally,_ when the song comes to an end, he pulls off the headphones silently, placing them back on the table and just _stares_ , like he’s frozen.

“So?” Fallon asks impatiently, itching to hear his thoughts.

“It’s...” Liam begins, a grin slowly starting to creep on his face, “it's done.” He looks at her, a sparkle amongst the blue, “It’s _perfect_.”

Her eyes widen slightly in disbelief, “You think?”

Liam nods, letting out a chuckle, his enthusiasm easing her anxieties slightly.

“Fallon, it’s _amazing_ ,” he breathes out around a smile, “I don’t even know what to say, other than... Thank you.”

“Well, it was-”

Liam unexpectedly jumps forwards, placing his hands on either side of her head to press his lips to hers, cutting her off midsentence.

She makes a surprised noise, smiling into the kiss once she comprehends what he’s doing. Her hands move to his arms, pulling him closer as she moves against his lips enthusiastically, daring to let herself believe they’re actually finished. They can _finally_ release this song.

Until, like always, there’s one little niggling fear worming its way into her brain, threatening to ruin her happiness.

“Wait-” she pulls back, looking into his eyes, “you’re not just saying that because I gave you a blowjob two hours ago, are you?”

Liam chuckles instantly, apparently very amused by her question.

“What?!” He asks, shaking his head in disbelief, “No. I mean it, Fallon. You’ve done an amazing job.”

She feels ridiculous for even asking that question now and tries her best to cover it over by making the whole thing seem like an innocent joke.

“Yeah?” Fallon sits back in her chair, throwing him a mischievous grin, “which job?”

He shakes his head, his cheeks tinging pink, his thoughts likely going back to their morning activities.

“The _song_ ,” Liam emphasizes, “and, the other thing, obviously.”

They throw one another a knowing look, heated glances being exchanged, and Fallon knows instantly that she was right with her theory. Working together is going to be a challenge now that they know what they’re missing.

“Speaking of...” Liam continues, his voice raspy and seductive, “I still owe you. I have no idea how you managed to switch the scenario and derail my plans so well this morning.”

Fallon snickers, shrugging slightly, “Well, I’m sneaky like that.”

“I can tell.”

His eyes bore into hers, pulling her into a trance before he leans forwards, placing his hand firmly on her thigh and speaks lowly, “Let’s take a break and celebrate?”

Fallon smirks, “What do you have in mind?” She asks, matching his tone.

Liam’s hands graze her skin, inching towards the hemline of her skirt, making her involuntarily shiver under his touch.

“Making sure you feel appreciated for being the genius that you are,” he responds, his gaze dropping, his fingers slipping underneath the material.

“I have a better idea,” Fallon says, placing her hand on his and intertwining their fingers. “Come with me,” she whispers before standing, pulling Liam across the room to the sofa.

He goes with her willingly, a curious expression on his features.

“Sit,” she demands, pointing at the sofa.

Wordlessly, Liam follows her instructions, looking up at her with an intense stare once his back hits the leather.

Fallon crowds him, placing her hands on his shoulders as she climbs onto his lap, straddling him. His arms immediately go around her, settling on her lower back, keeping her flush against his body.

“This song is going to be a hit,” she mutters down to him, tracing her fingertips up his neck, “are you ready for that?”

“Thanks to you, Fallon, yes,” Liam returns, his expression soft.

It gives her whole body goosebumps to know he’s putting so much faith in her. It’s a heavy burden, one she now realizes the weight of.

“Don’t worry,” he says, rubbing his hands comfortingly up her back, and she suspects he’s read her mind somehow and knows what insecurities are clawing at her, “you’re going to do an amazing job with the whole of the album.”

“I’ll certainly try,” she responds, trying to insert some confidence in her tone. She will believe it herself eventually. She has to, especially considering Liam has given her the courage to do what she should have done a long time ago. Which she still needs to discuss with him and figures now is a perfect time since they’re being so open with one another.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she admits, seeing Liam quirk an eyebrow up at her in interest.

“What’s that, babe?”

“The first night we met, I told you something. It was a lie,” she sighs, her fingers flexing on his shoulders, and she takes a deep breath in before continuing, “I told you that I had to wait to get married to Culhane before I could afford to start my own record company. I have the money. That was never the issue.”

Liam blinks up at her, his gaze soft, “Then what was holding you back?”

She tilts her head, responding in a monotone, “What do you _think?”_

“Wow,” Liam shakes his head slightly, “he really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

Her gaze drops, unable to look him in the eyes because it’s so _embarrassing._ She’s Fallon freaking Carrington, and she was manipulated. By a man. Which is the literal opposite of what she stands for.

_The irony._

“I was scared,” she confesses, “he got inside my head and made me completely doubt myself. I mean, if my own father wasn’t willing to give me a promotion in his company, then how am I ever supposed to run my own? Culhane made it pretty clear that I needed him, or I wouldn’t make it.”

Liam's thumbs begin tracing circles against her back in a way she’s quickly come to associate with him trying to comfort her. And it does. His touch grounds her and makes her feel appreciated, even amongst the pain.

“Fallon, what’s important is that you know now that you are more than capable of doing _anything_ you put your mind to. You are the smartest person that I know,” her eyes meet him at that, seeing his honesty reflected in them, “don’t _ever_ let anyone tell you any different.”

She suddenly has to blink quickly to keep the tears threatening to leak into her vision from appearing. Liam’s words cut through her like a knife, but in a painfully beautiful way. This is why she loves him so much, and this is also why she’s terrified of him. He holds so much power to completely break her heart if he ever walks away.

“And-” he continues, “Culhane’s been a producer for a long time. He knows the industry, so it wasn’t exactly a terrible business plan, Fal.”

_Fal._

She smiles at the nickname. Only Steven used to call her that.

“That’s true,” she nods before giving him a self-assured smirk, trying to push her previous thoughts away, “but I don’t need him.”

Liam smiles, wide and genuine, “What are you saying, Fallon?”

“I’m saying that I’m going to do it. I already have my lawyers working on scoping out a label,” she responds, assessing him carefully to gauge his opinion on the matter.

“I am so proud of you,” Liam returns, pressing forwards to place a kiss on her lips, lingering there for a sweet moment, flooding her with warmth.

She smiles against his mouth, her hands wandering up his neck, pushing her body closer to his, remembering why they’re here on this sofa in the first place.

“Oh,” Liam says, pulling back abruptly just as the kiss was getting good, “you are going to sign me, right?”

She raises an eyebrow, “Well, I guess that depends.”

“Yeah, on what?” He asks, bending forwards to try to capture her lips again, but she leans back, relishing in seeing him chase her. “On _what,_ Fallon?”

“Ooo, impatient, are we?” She teases, watching him roll his eyes in response, “don’t worry, of course, I’m going to sign you, but just remember, it’s a long-term commitment.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Liam responds, smiling up at her, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Those just happen to be the most perfect words to vanquish those little demons tearing at Fallon’s confidence.

If Liam’s all in, then so is she.

Without a second thought, she presses forwards, kissing him hungrily. She hopes he can tell with her actions what she wants to say but is still too scared to. Thankfully, Liam responds enthusiastically, returning to what they’d started on this couch. He doesn’t wait around to push her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought, leaving her in just a black, lacy bra.

She moans against his mouth as he cups her breast, her hands reaching to slip underneath his t-shirt, running her fingers over his abs momentarily before tugging, breaking the kiss to pull the garment from him.

They press their foreheads together momentarily, collecting their breaths before promptly diving right back in with a hot, open-mouthed kiss. Fallon feels Liam’s hands roam her body, almost like he can’t decide where to place them, and eventually settles on her ass cheeks, using his vantage to push her closer to his groin where she can already feel his growing hardness against her core.

She rolls her hips to slide against him, the friction it creates feeling amazing against her centre, and does it again, repeating the action, practically rutting against him, them both groaning into the kiss at the sparks of pleasure it creates.

Her desire grows quickly, pure need coursing through her veins, and she stills her hips to reach down towards his belt, undoing the buckle.

“Ahem.”

They freeze.

“Care to explain what’s going on here, Fallon?”

_Oh god._

She’d recognize that Australian accent anywhere.

 _Kirby_.

Slowly, they pull apart, their wide eyes moving towards the source of the interruption, finding a tall red-head glaring back at them, her arms crossed over her chest.

Fallon shoots her a look, immediately irritated by the younger woman’s clear judgement of the situation, “Can we help you?”

“Yes, actually,” Kirby responds, her tone sharp, “you can start by telling me why you haven’t called us and told us about these... Clearly very important developments. Enough rumours started to circulate, so I decided to pay you a visit, considering you’re ignoring my emails. Now I’m glad I have.”

Fallon rolls her eyes, moving to change positions from straddling Liam to sitting beside him, silently handing him his t-shirt, which she’d carelessly thrown. She makes sure to give him a quick smile, relaxing his alarmed state as he redresses.

“I wasn’t aware I had to let my PR firms _assistant_ know about my personal life,” Fallon bites back as she leans to retrieve her jacket from the floor.

“I’m not an assistant,” Kirby returns, clearly offended by the incorrect title.

“Oh, congratulations on the promotion,” Fallon comments, a smug smirk on her face as she puts herself back together, “Kirby, this is Liam, Liam, this is Kirby Anders. She handles my social media and whatnot. I’m not entirely sure what she does if I’m honest with you. Other than my brother, I’m quite certain she does him.”

“I’m practically her PR director,” Kirby corrects, addressing Liam, who, from what Fallon can tell, is secretly amused by the whole exchange going on right now. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Fallon that Kirby elects to ignore her comment about Adam.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Liam returns, smiling that dazzling smile that can charm _anyone,_ even with Fallon’s lipstick smeared all over his lips. _No one can be mad at that face._

Kirby visibly relents slightly, nodding at him and takes a seat to sit across from them, busying herself with her notepad.

Fallon glances at Liam before using her thumb to wipe off the rouge marks she’s left on his face, throwing him a smirk before resting her hand on his thigh and turning back towards the red-head who looks more than a little uncomfortable.

“So, you are the guy Fallon brought on stage a few weeks ago, right?” Kirby asks.

Liam shifts slightly, uncomfortable under the scrutiny, “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’m producing his first single,” Fallon explains, “well, his whole album, actually. Oh, I should probably mention that I’m starting a record company, which Liam will be signed to, and that’s pretty much all you need to know.”

Kirby clearly attempts to make a note of that, her eyebrows scrunching together as Fallon mentions the record company, “Wait, we already told the press about the-”

“Well, that was with Culhane. He won’t be involved,” Fallon responds, noticing Kirby’s gaze moving to stare at her ringless hand.

“I’m assuming the two of you broke up?” Kirby asks, raising an eyebrow at Fallon.

_Great._

Kirby always liked Culhane, _and_ their relationship used to get a lot of positive press. Not that Fallon _cares,_ its just that this is now going to become an inconvenience for her.

She smiles tightly at the red-head, “Obviously.”

“Well, we’re going to have to make some kind of statement about that…”

Fallon scoffs, “No. We don’t.”

Kirby practically glares daggers at her, but Fallon remains steadfast.

“Fallon people are going to _talk,_ rumours will be flying around about the reason you guys broke up, it’s going to be a shit storm, you _have_ to make a statement. Both of you.”

Fallon barks out another laugh, “Good luck finding him. As for the rumours? They can come up with whatever crazy theories they want. I’d rather that happen than they know the truth.”

Liam’s hand slides over hers instantly, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin. Fallon casts a glance at him, a silent thank you.

“What happened?” Kirby asks, her voice suddenly much softer, much less accusing than it has been.

“Don’t pretend you don’t already know,” she returns, “Adam was there that night that I turned up with blood all over my face.”

Kirby casts her eyes down, “He may have mentioned something.”

“The exact details don’t matter,” Fallon asserts, “if you’re going to make a statement, then just focus on the career stuff. Leave my personal life out of it.”

The red-head sighs, looking between the singers, “Well, if you’re going to do that, then the two of you can’t be seen out in public, at least not in an intimate way.”

Fallon furrows her brows, immediately jumping on the defensive, “What? Why?”

“Because, if you’re not going to tell the media about the reason you and Culhane broke up, and then they see you with the same guy you were hugging on stage whilst the two of you were together, then the media is going to come to their own conclusions. You’re smart, Fallon. You know they’ll assume you cheated on Culhane, and then _you_ will be painted as the bad guy. So, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to lay low until enough time passes,” Kirby explains, and with every word she says, Fallon feels like the wind is knocked out of her.

She is, quite unfortunately, right.

If her and Liam are caught, everyone is going to call her a cheating whore, and Culhane does not, under _any_ circumstances, deserve to be the one who gets the glory whilst she is being hounded by the press.

Yet, that means they will have to start out their relationship in secret. That thought makes her heart squeeze unfairly in her chest. She doesn’t want to hide. She wants to scream out at the top of her lungs that her and Liam are together, that she has finally found happiness.

Liam interrupts her thoughts, intertwining their fingers together and casts a glance over to her, speaking softly, “Hey, this is for your own protection. We’ll be _fine._ We’ll make it work, okay?”

The look in his eyes tells her to trust him, and she does. Of course, she does, but she just can’t shake the sinking feeling of disappointment pulling at her resolve.

That means no romantic dinners, having to sneak around, they can’t even _hold_ _hands_ in public. She prays it isn’t going to have a strain on their budding relationship.

Eventually, Fallon sighs, slowly nodding in agreement.

“Fine,” she throws towards Kirby, trying to swallow down her emotions, “but you need to think of something to leak to the press to make sure that once the time comes, they don’t come after me, or Liam.”

Kirby nods, “I’ll do my best.”

~

The next week is such a blur and flurry of life that Fallon barely has any time to breathe, or stop, or even think about what she’s gotten herself into. After searching for a record company, she finds herself signing a contract to purchase ‘Broken Glass Records’ within only a few days. She discovers that it has a lot of potential, with a small number of reasonably successful artists already signed to the label. However, the real reason she is so determined to buy the company is Ryan, or Scorpio, as he is better known in the industry, who is a literal genius when it comes to producing.

So, that, combined with the release of Liam’s single and watching it spread across the internet like wildfire, its streams jumping up by the thousands every hour, has her thriving.

Now that she has Scorpio working on Liam’s album with her, everything feels like it’s finally falling into place. 

“This song is _killer_ ,” Scorpio comments as he pulls his headphones off, throwing a smile over at Liam, who bashfully thanks him for the compliment.

“So you agree, ‘Bad Things’ should be on the album?” Fallon asks, feeling rather smug about her insistence with Liam that it needs to be.

Scorpio nods, “Oh absolutely, for several reasons. One, your album, it needs to tell a story. You start with the first track being ‘Glad You’re Gone’, a tale of discovering you’re with the wrong person, heartbreak, pain, it’s all very relatable. Then, you meet someone, and they’re sexy and mysterious, and you write songs about wanting to have hot, passionate sex with them? I mean that combined with your image, it’s going to be a winner.”

Fallon furrows her brows, “Wait, what do you mean by his _image?”_

“Well, young, hot, _single,_ rock star?” Scorpio asks, gesturing towards Liam for emphasis, “the women will be falling at your knees. That’s how you get fans.”

Fallon shoots Liam a glare instantly. Young and hot? Yes. Single? No. Liam is _not_ single, and the idea of women falling over him really rubs her up the wrong way. To make matters worse, she can do nothing about it with them still having to pretend they aren’t a couple.

Liam just shrugs his shoulders back at her, silently communicating with her to go with it.

“You got any more songs like this one?”

Liam shakes his head, breaking contact with her to address Scorpio’s question, “Uh, no. Not really. They’re a little more mellow, more love songs, really."

Scorpio nods, “Love songs are fine. You can move from lust to love. _But,_ you need more of the lust, if you get me. Trust me, it’s just good old fashioned sex appeal; you should know all about that Fallon.”

“Too well,” she returns. It’s only been the marketing strategy Culhane set for her since her career began.

“So, it’s agreed! You,” he points his finger at Liam, “get to work on another song and Fallon, should we talk about the music video?”

“Actually,” Liam interrupts, speaking to Scorpio, “I have some ideas for that which I’d like to discuss with you privately.”

“Excuse me?” Fallon asks Liam, alarmed by his secrecy. “Liam, I’m your producer. I need to be a part of these conversations.”

Her heart thuds heavily in her chest.

_Why would he not want me to know about his ideas?_

“I, uh,” Liam begins, flustered.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss this alone. Liam, I’ll wait outside if you want to talk,” Scorpio interjects, standing from his chair.

“Thanks, man,” Liam throws back at the producer, waiting for him to leave the studio door and go back out into the foyer before turning back towards a very outraged Fallon.

“Well?” She asks, crossing her arms.

“It’s a surprise, Fal. I don’t even know if what I want to do can even be done,” He explains.

“Well, how can I figure that out if I don’t even know what your idea is?” She throws back at him.

“Do you trust me?” Liam asks her, throwing her a curveball.

Fallon glares at him for a moment, looking into his ocean eyes, feeling her simmering anger being doused even as she tries to hold onto it. It really is impossible to stay mad at him. Her expression transforms into a pout, sighing before surrendering.

“Of course I do, but I _hate_ surprises,” she comments, making Liam smile. He can read between the lines. She doesn’t hate surprises. She hates not having control where she believes control is due.

“I know you do,” he responds and moves towards her, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, “but you’ll like this, I swear on my heart.”

“Just promise me one thing,” she says as he begins to pull away, catching a glimpse of a smirk on his face, knowing he’s managed to win her over.

“Yeah, what’s that?” He enquires before he walks over to the door, prepared to leave.

“That you aren’t planning on bringing your ex into the video just because the song is about her.”

Liam laughs humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “Good joke, trust me, I have zero plans on seeing her ever again,” he says before turning the handle and disappearing into the foyer. 

~

“It’s not working,” Liam says, looking up at the stars from their bench, the same one he brought Fallon to the first night they had met.

It was Fallon’s turn to bring _him_ here this time. After Scorpio had insisted that Liam needs another erotic song on the album, Liam freaked out.

 _“I can’t just write a song on demand like that, Fallon.”_ He’d insisted.

So, she figures that bringing him to the place that’s inspired him to write so many songs in the past would help. And yet...

“You haven’t even tried,” Fallon returns, glancing at him.

“I have.”

She sighs. They’ve been here for twenty minutes already. It’s _cold_ , and her ears are beginning to ring from the sound of the planes taking off above them.

“Fine. Then I’ll move to plan B.”

Liam throws her a quizzical expression, “Which is?”

Fallon leans over seductively, kissing his jawline before bringing his earlobe between her lips, sucking, nipping, running her tongue over the skin there. Liam sighs in response contentedly.

Eventually, she lets go so that she can whisper directly into his ear, “I’m going to ride you right here, right now, and you’re going to write me a song whilst I do it.”

She feels him shudder underneath her touch as her fingers make their way down his chest, and she props herself up on one elbow to better reach the hem of his shirt.

“You can’t be serious,” Liam says back, calling her bluff.

Fallon’s hand reaches his crotch, and she wastes no time palming him over his jeans, massaging gently, hearing his breath hitch in his throat.

“Oh, I’m deadly serious. The album needs another sexy song, what better way to write it other than when you’re actually having sex?” Fallon comments casually as she unbuttons his jeans and pulls the zipper down.

“Because I can’t imagine I’m going to be all that coherent if you’re- _ah_ ,” He cuts himself off as Fallon’s fingers wrap around his hardening length, giving it a few gentle tugs.

“Well, well, well, you can’t be _that_ surprised about my current offer considering you aren’t wearing any underwear.”

Liam smirks back at her, “Well, when you said we were going for a ride… I read between the lines. Didn’t quite expect it to be _here,_ though.”

Fallon hums in amusement before taking her hand away, earning her a disapproving grunt, but when she brings her hand up and licks a line across her palm, all the way up to the tip of her middle finger, Liam shuts up immediately. She can see the expression on his face in her peripheral vision, his jaw slack, his eyes gazing at her, that mesmerizing look in his eyes that makes her feel like she’s the centre of his whole universe. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging,” Fallon comments after running her tongue completely over her palm, then puts her hand back where Liam craves it to be the most, her now saliva slick skin moving over him freely, “I’m not wearing any either.”

She feels him twitch in her hand at her words and rubs her thumb over his tip in a way she’s quickly learnt he loves, earning her a low moan.

As she pumps him harder, his fingers begin to stray, sliding up her thigh and underneath her dress, checking for himself if she really isn’t wearing any underwear.

“Baby, how are you already this wet?” he asks as he feels over her already sticky core, moving from her entrance up to her clit, making her whine in appreciation.

She leans down to whisper lowly in his ear, “Because I get really turned on when I hear you moan.”

His hips thrust up into her hand involuntarily, and she knows he’s at that point of aching for her, needing more.

She moves away from his touch to fumble around her jacket pocket and pulls out her phone and a condom, quickly ripping open the packet and rolling the latex onto him.

Fallon moves to straddle him, placing her knees on Liam’s jacket, which is pooled around him. She leans down, resting her body on top of his, inches from his lips, “I burn for you, Liam. I have never felt like this with anyone before. My body _aches_ for you every second of the day,” she shifts her body down his slightly so that her already soaking core slides against his erection. “I never truly understood the art of restraint until trying to spend hours with you alone in a studio attempting to be productive.”

“Yeah, the feeling’s mutual.”

“Is it?” She asks, sitting up and grabs her phone from its place by Liam’s head. “Tell me about it.”

She places the phone back down, which Liam glances at, noticing the app she has open.

“You’re recording this?” He asks, wide-eyed. 

“Of course,” she returns, “how else are we going to remember your song? Now, _relax._ ”

Fallon reaches behind herself, stroking Liam’s cock a few times for good measure, relishing in watching his neck strain, biting his lip before letting out a curse.

She smirks at the sight, _loving_ how she can affect him so much with a simple touch. His hands move to grip her waist, “ _mm_ , _Fal_ ,” he breathes out, clearly using a lot of restraint right now to remain still.

Eventually, she has mercy on him and shifts her hips, hovering over him. Their eyes meet in the darkness as she ever so slowly sinks down on his cock, taking him all the way in. She can’t help but moan out with him at the sensation.

They’ve had a _lot_ of sex in this past week, and every time he pushes into her, or she sits down on him like this, the same thought passes through her mind – _this is precisely where they’re meant to be._

She leans down, her hands on his chest, changing the angle, and slowly grinds her hips in a circular motion, his tip grazing at her most sensitive spots.

“ _Fallon_ ,” Liam moans, and they both become lost in the feeling for a good few minutes as she moves erotically over him, their hands fumbling over one another. Thankfully, her eyes catch the phone by the side of Liam’s head, and she remembers what they’re here for.

“My name can’t be in a song,” she pants out and sees him smirk in response.

“Why not?”

Fallon rolls her eyes, “Because it’s a little obvious.”

She sits up, moving almost all the way off of him and slams back down, repeating the motion a few times to hear Liam groan.

“Come on, baby,” she coaxes, slowing down, returning to grinding her hips so that he stirs inside of her, “tell me what’s on your mind.”

“My god, the way you move, you’re intoxicating,” he pants out.

She grins, knowing it’s working, “yeah, what else?”

His eyes squeeze shut, his expression reflecting his current predicament. 

“You drive me senseless,” he admits, catching her gaze as she reverses her motions unexpectedly, using a new technique on him.

“Keep going,” she encourages, throwing her head back momentarily as a spark of pleasure takes over her body.

“I don’t know how you get away with being so damn reckless.”

She chuckles slightly at his choice of words as she begins to bounce on his member; her own needs take over her resolve momentarily.

However, Liam doesn’t allow her to get too lost in the moment, unexpectedly grabbing her body and forcing her back down onto his chest, “I crave you, I’ll chase you, wanting to taste you.”

He brings his hand up, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he keeps eye contact with her, and dips the digit into her mouth. Her lips wrap around it, sucking gently as she continues to stir her hips. They stay like that for a good while, Fallon licking over his thumb, moaning as Liam’s stiff member sparks pleasure beneath her skin.

“You can lure me with just one look, and I’ll go willingly to you, and I’m begging you to keep on doing that thing that you do,” he says, his voice low and raspy.

Fallon smirks, letting go of his thumb to move faster, feeling Liam’s hard cock sink deep into her before she moves off again, repeating the action, except this time Liam takes her by surprise by thrusting his own hips and meets her in the middle.

_“This?”_

“Yeah,” Liam responds as they find a mutually beneficial rhythm, “that.”

_God, it feels good._

So good, in fact, that they carry on like that for a few minutes until Fallon finally has the sense to pull their attention back to the task on hand.

“What else?” She asks, feeling her patience beginning to slip with every thrust, recognizing the beginning of her orgasm pooling in her lower stomach.

“Like a siren, your voice tempts me and pulls me in without a care, give me just a slither, and I’ll throw myself overboard without air,” he continues. Fallon can’t help but lean further down, hovering her lips over his, feeling his warm breath tickle her face, aching to kiss him, but knowing that she can’t. Liam’s on a roll here, and she knows that she can’t interrupt him, no matter how much she wants to. “I’d happily kiss your poisoned lips as if I was under some spell. Darling, I suggest you take me to heaven before I drag us both to hell.”

Fallon can read between the lines there, and she increases the speed of her hips, Liam adjusting to her new rhythm.

 _“Fuck,”_ she curses, resting her forehead against his for a moment as she focuses on the sensation of the tip of Liam’s cock hitting her G-Spot. “Keep going,” she manages to get out, and isn’t sure herself if she means with the song or fucking her the way he is.

Liam’s fingers flex on her hips, clearly struggling to restrain himself and Fallon has the sense to slow down a little and goes back to rocking her hips gently, allowing him to continue, “My god, the way you feel... You’re enchanting,” he pants out, “make me crazy.”

His hips falter, his fingers grabbing onto her, willing her to still for a moment as he collects himself, “I don’t think I can do this anymore, baby.”

Fallon nods, agreeing.

“I think that’s enough,” she says, and Liam let’s out a relieved sigh at her conceding.

“You close?” He asks her as she begins to move on him again, bouncing subtly as they go back to their previous vigorous rhythm.

“Yeah,” she responds, sitting up slightly to selfishly find an angle that she knows will bring her to completion in a matter of minutes, not that Liam seems to mind.

Glancing down, she sees him smiling up at her, “you could steal my breath, my soul, my heart, _everything_. As long as I can have you, and no else.”

“I think we just- _ah, god, -_ I think we just found our bridge.”

Liam chuckles, the vibrations only intensify her pleasure, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, feeling her walls clench tightly around him.

She’s closer than she initially thought.

Reading her body, Liam moves a hand from her hips to slip underneath her dress and presses the pad of his thumb against her clit, and rubs circles against her, making her cry his name out.

Fallon speeds her hips up, relishing in the way Liam meets her with strong thrusts, _“Fuck, god, Liam, Liam, Liam.”_

This is the roughest they’ve been up to yet, and she’s absolutely loving it, losing most of her control.

“I’m yours,” she blurts out as her pleasure peaks, lost in the passion of the moment, “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Liam growls out before placing his hand at the back of her head and pulls her down, their lips smacking together as they groan simultaneously, their orgasms hitting both of them at the same time.

Their tongues explore, dipping into their mouths, rolling together as they share pleasure, riding it out.

Eventually, their hips slow, and Fallon collapses on his body, pulling away from the kiss to rest her head in the crook of his neck, panting for air.

“You okay?” Liam asks, placing a kiss against her hair.

“Mmhmm,” she responds, her hormones crashing, still relishing in the afterglow, feeling completely boneless. She snuggles closer to him, his arms wrapping around her form, keeping her tightly pressed to his body, “you may have to carry me to the car.”

~

_My god the way you move_

_You’re intoxicating_

_You drive my senseless_

_I don’t know how you get away_

_With being so damn reckless_

_I crave you_

_I’ll chase you_

_Wanting to taste you_

_You can lure me with just one look and I’ll go willingly to you_

_And I’m begging you to keep on doing that thing that you do_

_Like a siren, your voice tempts me and pulls me in without a care_

_Give me just a slither and I’ll throw myself overboard without air_

_I’d happily kiss your poisoned lips as if I was under some spell_

_Darling, I suggest you take me to heaven before I drag us both to hell_

_My god the way you feel_

_You’re enchanting_

_Make me crazy_

_I don’t think I can do this anymore, baby_

_I crave you_

_I’ll chase you_

_Wanting to taste you_

_You can lure me with just one look and I’ll go willingly to you_

_And I’m begging you to keep on doing that thing that you do_

_Like a siren, your voice tempts me and pulls me in without a care_

_Give me just a slither and I’ll throw myself overboard without air_

_I’d happily kiss your poisoned lips as if I was under some spell_

_Darling, I suggest you take me to heaven before I drag us both to hell_

_You can pull me under_

_Steal my breath_

_Steal my heart_

_Steal my soul_

_As long as I can hear you, taste you, feel you_

_I’ll let you take me under_

_As long as I could have you_

_You can lure me with just one look and I’ll go willingly to you_

_And I’m begging you to keep on doing that thing that you do_

_Like a siren, your voice tempts me and pulls me in without a care_

_Give me just a slither and I’ll throw myself overboard without air_

_I’d happily kiss your poisoned lips as if I was under some spell_

_Darling, I suggest you take me to heaven before I drag us both to hell_

“Damn, you wrote this quicker than I expected,” Scorpio comments, handing the note page back to Liam.

“Yeah, you could say I had a little help,” he responds, turning to raise his eyebrows at Fallon, making her blush as last night’s activities race to the forefront of her mind.

She clears her throat, attempting to remain professional, “So, shall we get started?”

“Yeah,” Scorpio begins, addressing Fallon, “I’ll let you lead.”

Liam chuckles to himself, gaining Scorpios attention, who looks at him curiously.

Fallon shoots him a warning look, pushing him into the recording booth, “Get in there, you,” she whispers to him out of Scorpios earshot.

“Yes, boss,” Liam returns to her, leaning close before turning abruptly. Without thinking about what she’s doing, she reaches out, pinching his ass playfully, chuckling as he jumps.

 _“Behave,”_ she hisses at him before closing the glass door on him, a smirk on her face.

“Alright,” she says as she sits in her chair in front of the recording equipment, putting her game face on, “let’s do this.”

~

“LIAM!” Fallon screams for him, climbing out of his bed and throws his shirt over her naked frame before running barefoot down the corridor towards the kitchen.

“What?” He asks, slightly alarmed once he sees her round the corner, putting down the jug and whisk in his hand.

“They just announced the charts. You got into the top 25!”

His eyes widen, “What?!”

She grins, nodding her head, “I know that’s not _great,_ but for the first week of its release, it’s pretty good going. If we push the marketing and release the music video, it could get to number 1 soon.”

Liam breathes out a laugh in disbelief, his lips turning up into a fraction of a smile and opens his arms wide, pulling her in for a hug. She goes willingly, holding onto him tight, tucking her face into his neck, grinning.

“Aren’t you excited?” She asks as she pulls back, seeing the slightly perplexed expression on his face.

“I am... I’m just a little shocked.”

Fallon tilts her head, sympathetically, “I told you this song was going to be a hit. You need to have more faith in yourself, and in me.”

“I have every faith in you,” he returns, “it's just-”

“Shh,” Fallon interrupts him, placing her finger on his lips, silencing him, “I don’t wanna hear it. Now, leave the pancakes for later and let’s go celebrate.”

Liam chuckles as she takes his hand and pulls him out of the kitchen, heading back down the corridor towards the bedroom. He takes her by surprise when he grabs her, spinning her in his arms and lifts her up, her legs wrapping around his waist.

She giggles happily, throwing her arms around his neck and leans in to kiss him, their lips moving in tandem as they meet in the middle.

They get so lost in the kiss that neither one of them registers the sound of the elevator dinging at the end of the corridor, continuing with their assault on one another, her fingers tangling in his hair, messing it up.

“Oh my god,” a voice hits their ears, making them jump.

They pull apart, turning their heads towards the sound, taking in the sight of the young blonde standing with her mouth open, gaping at the couple.

“Ashley?” Liam asks, “what are you doing here?”


End file.
